Tell Me You Love Me
by georges1982-96
Summary: Sam and Dean left home to escape an alcoholic father; Cas went with them to get away from his abusive siblings. They've settled into a family of their own and things are going well until Sam falls for a guy who becomes more and more controlling and violent.Cas helplessly watches the man he loves fall for a guy who hurts him, and Dean struggles to keep their family together.AU,abuse
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! So this fic has been giving me a hard time. I've been debating on whether I wanted it to be a fanfic or to write it as an original piece, but it keeps going back to fanfic. So if you've seen it in my struggle to find a home for it, I apologize. This is where it will be from now on, as a fanfic. Again, sorry for any confusion. **

**FULL SUMMARY: Sam and Dean left home to escape an alcoholic father; Cas went with them to get away from his abusive siblings. Now they've settled into a little family of their own and things seem to be going well until Sam falls for a guy who becomes more and more controlling and violent. Cas helplessly watches the man he loves fall for a guy who hurts him, and Dean watches the family they've built fall apart, even as he desperately tries to keep it together.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters within.**

**Complete warnings: domestic abuse, child abuse, rape, sexual abuse, language, slash, homophobia, and violence**

**Chapter warnings: mentions of abuse and alcoholism, slash**

**I hope you like it!**

* * *

"Cas, make me something to eat," Dean moaned from where he was sprawled out on the couch in their apartment. He reached up towards the wall and stretched his out, listening to the pops of his spine with satisfaction. He cracked his eyes open to look at his roommate, was purposefully ignoring him.

"Cas," he whined, flopping back down off the side of the couch dejectedly.

"I'm busy, Dean," Cas didn't look up from where he was curled up in their beat up recliner with a thick book propped open in his lap. He adjusted his glasses on his nose and kept his gaze fixed intently on the small text of the page he was reading.

Dean sighed and looked up at the electric clock, reading it upside down from where his head hung off the edge of the couch. 7:45. Sam's last class ended a forty five minutes ago; he should have been home by 7:30. "I wonder where-"

Dean's thought was cut off before he could complete it when he heard Sam's key in the lock and the front door being pushed open. He heard the sound of Sam's heavy jacket landing on the bench next to the door and his boots clunking against the wall as he kicked them off.

"Hey," Sam greeted them as he passed through the living room and made his way to the small kitchen. "What's up?"

Dean was surprised by how upbeat his younger brother suddenly sounded. They'd been having a rough time since they'd moved to California. The second Dean had turned eighteen, he'd taken Sam and left home to get away from their alcoholic father. Dean doubted his Dad even noticed they were gone. He had nothing to gain by trying to get Sam back; he was probably thrilled he wasn't responsible for two kids anymore. It had been a relief when Sam turned eighteen and Dean could relax a little bit about their situation; at least he wasn't technically kidnapping a minor anymore.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Dean grunted, using the arm of the couch to pull himself up into a sitting position. Cas apparently deemed Sam's good mood important enough to put his book aside for a moment, Dean noted. Cas was his best friend, he had been since his family had moved in down the street from the Field's house when Dean was three. Cas had been all too happy to join Dean when he left home, eager to get away from his oppressively strict Christian family. He had thirteen brothers and sisters, and they were all locked in series of constant battles with each other. After their mother died, their father had left them alone for long periods of time to preach, and the oldest sibling, Michael, had taken over the household and ruled with an iron fist. He'd almost beaten Cas to death when Cas's bitch of a sister had outed Cas to their family.

"Nothing," Sam grinned down at his hands as he spread mayo on a piece of white bread.

"Nothing?" Dean snorted. "You're coming home a half an hour late and smiling at your sandwich. That doesn't seem like nothing."

Sam shrugged, but didn't say anything else, just grinned stupidly at the counter.

"Want a sandwich, Cas?" Sam asked, glancing up at the dark haired man. Cas watched Sam from the armchair with his wide, piercing eyes. He seemed as surprised by Sam's sudden good mood as Dean was.

"Yes, thank you," he nodded, tilting his head and regarding Sam curiously.

"Is it a girl?" Dean asked, leaning forward and digging his toes into the worn couch cushions. He wasn't going to just let this drop; Sam had been in a funk lately, ever since he'd started classes at Sanford. There was a group of kids that absolutely terrorized him and he was reluctant to do anything in retaliation for fear of losing his scholarship. Dean had tried to get the names out of him, but Sam had so far refused to tell him, or Cas.

Dean considered his brother for a moment before adding hesitantly, "Or a guy?"

Sam froze and his eyes snapped up to meet Dean's. Dean could read the fear there, and it made his chest ache. Sam hadn't quite stopped shadowboxing yet. "Dean..."

Cas shrunk back in his chair and clutched his book tightly to himself. Dean saw him out of the corner of his eye and hesitated, but didn't say anything to him. "Sam, whatever. It's fine. I mean, I've sort of always known you were interested in guys..."

"You're okay with it?" Sam asked, hesitant relief showing clearly in his expression. His gaze flickered over to Cas, who had relaxed marginally when Dean hadn't started yelling and screaming the way Michael had when he'd found out about Cas's sexuality.

"He's my best friend, isn't he?" Dean shrugged, waving a hand at Cas. "Why would it bother me?"

Sam shrugged and pursed his lips, returning to making Cas a sandwich. Cas was specific about what he ate, and Sam had been working for years and years just to get the man's sandwich order right. White bread, then two slices of turkey folded in half and placed next to each other, then two slices of cheese lined up with the edge of the bread but not spilling out of the sandwich, and another piece of white bread. Sometimes he would eat it with three slices of tomato. Sam figured it was a way Cas had coped living in his strict home. He wasn't allowed to make his own decisions about most things in his life, but making a sandwich was something he had control over, so he'd taken advantage of the opportunity.

"So it was a guy, then?" Dean asked after a moment.

Sam let out a frustrated sigh and tossed the knife he was using to cut the sandwich into the sink. "For God's sake, Dean, let it go. It's none of your business."

"Who was it?" Cas spoke up innocently.

Sam sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "You two are impossible." he could feel both of the staring at him, waiting expectantly for an answer. "Okay, okay, it was David Green, alright? Are you happy now?"

"No," Dean replied bluntly. He was perched on the arm of the couch closest to the kitchen by now, watching Sam intently. "Not really. What happened? Did he ask you out?"

"Yeah," Sam muttered, plating Cas's sandwich. He picked up his plate, Cas's plate, and Dean's plate and carried them into the living room, balancing his own on the inside of his elbow.

Cas looked like he was about to say something, but he was distracted when Sam handed him his plate and he realized that Sam had made his sandwich perfectly. A warm feeling grew in his stomach and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Sam handed Dean his plate and plopped down next to his brother, setting his own plate in his lap. "Anything else you want to know?"

"What did you tell him?" Cas asked.

Sam shrugged and shifted uncomfortably under Cas's familiar, yet unnervingly penetrating gaze. "I said yes."

"Oh, God," Dean breathed, staring at Sam in horror. "Sam, you've never been on a date. This is a date, right? Like, he doesn't want to meet in some parking lot and get it on in his car, does he?"

"Oh my God," Sam dropped his sandwich onto his plate and rubbed his forehead, mortified. "No, Dean, no. Just...this is why I didn't want to tell you. We're going to dinner, we might see a movie. Just...okay, that's enough bonding for one night."

He grabbed his plate and started to stand, but Dean's hand on his wrist stopped him and pulled him back towards the couch. He found himself looking right into Dean's green eyes, and was stunned to find that his brother's gaze was completely serious. "Sam, wait a second. Is this guy...is he gonna treat you right?"

"It's just one date, Dean," Sam tried to shake his brother off, but Dean had a solid grip on his bicep that kept Sam from standing up. "C'mon, man..."

"Dean's right to be concerned, Sam," Cas cut in quietly, leaning forward in the chair. He ran a hand through his ruffled dark hair and scrubbed his hand over his mouth. "David Green isn't exactly...I've heard things about him."

"What kinds of things?" Dean demanded, his grip on Sam tightening.

"He's had quite a few relationships in a short period of time," Cas replied, not looking at Dean, but keeping his gaze firmly locked on Sam. "I'm concerned that he may want you for the wrong reasons. You don't deserve that."

"You guys, we're not getting married," Sam laughed lightly, trying to wipe the serious, concerned expressions of their faces. "He's a nice guy. Is it so ridiculous that someone could be interested in me?"

"No," Cas said bluntly. Dean shot him an exasperated look and took over.

"Look, Sam," he began, ready for this conversation to be over. "Just, uh...be careful, okay? If he does anything, if he tries anything, you just say the word and me and Cas'll take care of it."

"Okay," Sam muttered, ducking his head so his hair hid his eyes. "I'm gonna go to my room now. Homework."

He stood up and retreated to the bedroom with his sandwich, closing the door behind him.

Dean turned to Cas and hissed softly so Sam wouldn't hear, "God, Cas, either man up and ask him out before this Green guy does or stop making it so goddamn obvious you're pining for him."

"I'm not pining," Cas replied stoically, frowning at Dean. "I'm glad he's happy."

Dean sighed and shook his head. He sat back against the couch cushions and dug into his sandwich, letting it drop for now.

_Sam was already tired and ready for the weekend, though it was only Tuesday. He honestly just wanted to go home, curl up in bed, and listen to Dean yell at the TV while Cas irritably told him to quiet down so he could read. If he was being completely honest with himself, he wanted Cas curled up in bed with him and Dean out of the picture for a little while, but Sam reminded himself that he'd given that up years ago. Cas was like a second brother, but he could never be anything more, because that's how Cas saw him; as a brother._

_"Hey, Sam," Sam paused when he heard his name and turned around, surprised to find that David Green had been the one who had spoken. "Wait up a second."_

_Dave smile when he approached Sam and ran a hand through his dark hair, brushing it out of his eyes. "Hey."_

_"Hi," Sam replied, not sure what was happening. Dave didn't really talk to him outside of class, unless he needed help on homework or something. Stopping him in the hallways was unprecedented. "Do you, uh...do you need something?"_

_"I just wanted to talk," Dave grinned warmly and Sam felt something in his chest squirm pleasantly._

_Sam smiled back, a little hesitant._

_"Are you heading in town?" Dave asked, holding the door open for Sam and stepping out into the cool air after him. The sidewalks were well lit by street lamps and there was a steady stream of students walking to and from their classes around campus. "You live that way, right?"_

_He pointed away from the building in the direction of Sam's apartment. Sam nodded. "Uh, yeah, I do. Down by the library."_

_"I'm heading that way," Dave shrugged. "I could give you a lift it you want."_

_"Oh, no, I don't want you to go out of your way for me," Sam insisted, stepping away from Dave and preparing to leave._

_He stopped when he felt a hand on his arm. He lifted his gaze to meet Dave's and was taken aback by the sincerity in Dave's brown eyes. "It's really no problem. It's not out of my way at all. I barely see you around outside of class. It'll give us some time to talk about non-school related stuff."_

_"Uh, yeah," Sam agreed, shrugging. No one had made much of an effort to get to know him; he'd been pretty much dismissed as a freak. People knew he was good friends with Cas and Cas wasn't really normal, so Sam had been declared a freak by association and ostracized by most of his classmates. "I guess that'd be okay. Thanks."_

_"No problem," Dave's grin brightened and Sam felt the warm feeling in his chest grow a little bit. "My car's over in the lot on the other side of the hall."_

_Sam was pleasantly surprised to find that he and Dave had things in common to talk about. Dave had an older brother who had been overprotective when they were kids (Sam didn't bother mentioning that Dean had never grown out of the overprotectiveness), they both liked some of the Same books, music, and movies, which carried them until Dave pulled in next to Sam's building where Sam had pointed out the small parking lot. Sam didn't realize they'd been parked for fifteen minutes until he happened to glance at the clock. He cut himself off from what he was saying about 'The Tempest' and pushed open the car door._

_"I'm sorry, you must be so bored listening to me," he apologized, managing not to blush. He hadn't realized how long he'd been rambling. "Thank you so much for the ride. I'll see you Thursday."_

_He slid out of the car and shut the door behind him. He turned to go inside before he was stopped the sound of another car door opening and closing._

_"Hold up a minute, Sam," Dave called, moving around the car to stand a few feet away from Sam. Sam turned on his heel and titled his head at Dave, cocking an eyebrow curiously. Dave dug his hands in his pockets and smiled bashfully at Sam. "I was anything but bored listening to you."_

_"Thank you," Sam said quietly, trying to keep the shock out of his voice. Cas was the only person who had never told him he was boring, or to shut up when he was explaining something. "I...good."_

_"Listen, Sam," Dave rubbed the back of his neck and let out a deep breath, bracing himself. "Would you want to go out sometime?"_

_Sam's blank look told Dave that the younger boy hadn't really gotten it. "Go out?"_

_"Yeah, like, on a date," Dave clarified, grinning. Sam was fucking adorable, with his chocolate curls flopping into his confused, wide eyes, clutching the strap of his shoulder bag tightly. "Dinner, maybe a movie, whatever you want."_

_"A date," Sam repeated, rolling to word around in his head. "I...Dave..."_

_"Oh my God," Dave's stomach sank when Sam hesitated. "You're straight. I'm so sorry, man, I thought..."_

_"No, no, that's not it," Sam shook his head, and finally, a genuine smile crossed his lips. "I've just...never been asked out before. I'd love to."_

_"Really?" Jake's grin was back on his face in seconds. "Awesome! Uh, okay, so I'll pick you up here, Saturday, at seven-ish? Does that work?"_

_Sam nodded and met Dave's eyes for a moment before he glanced away, blushing. "Yeah. That's perfect."_

* * *

**So there's chapter one. It's a little short, but the whole thing is about 30,000 words right now, so if people are interested, I'll keep putting it up as I write. **

**Drop me a review if you have a second! I love hearing what you think, and it's nice to see if there's any interest or not.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's chapter two. Thanks to those who followed and favorited, and especially to the person who reviewed. I appreciate it, and you made my week:)**

**It's still getting started, so I'm so sorry if this seems a little slow right now.**

* * *

Cas glanced up when Sam whimpered and rolled over in bed. He'd been shifting uncomfortably all night. Cas was hesitant to wake him up; Sam had had nightmares since he was little. They always came for three or four days in a row and left Sam exhausted from lack of sleep. Paired with Sam's workload that kept him up late into the night, any sleep Sam got was precious.

A small sound of distress escaped Sam's lips and a line of stress appeared between his eyebrows.

Cas sighed and stood up, setting his book aside. He padded over to Sam's bed and gently shook his shoulder. "Sam. Sam, wake up."

Sam fought against Cas's hands and tried to roll away from him, still asleep.

Cas shifted so he was kneeling on the bed and grabbed Sam's shoulders. He pinned him down and lightly slapped Sam's face, trying to wake him up and bring him back from whatever horror he was seeing seared on the inside of his eyelids. "Sam, it's okay. I've got you. You're safe, I've got you."

Sam's eyes flickered open and he immediately latched onto Cas, pulling him closer and burying his face in the front of the smaller man's sweater. Cas wrapped his arms around Sam and stroked the back of his hair soothingly. "You're okay, Sam. You're alright, I'm here..."

Cas could feel Sam's chest heaving and his warm, choked breaths soaking into his sweater as Sam tried to calm down and breathe evenly.

"I'm sorry," Sam muttered into the thick wool of Cas's sweater. He inhaled the familiar scent of incense and candle wax and pine that was so uniquely Cas, and he could feel his heartbeat returning to normal. Cas's arm tightened around him and Sam nuzzled his nose into Cas's soft shirt, feeling safe and protected in a way that only Dean or Cas could make him feel.

"Don't be," Cas replied automatically. Sam always apologized for the nightmares, as if it was his fault he had them. "I was awake."

"It's late," Sam murmured, his eyes slipping closed again despite his effort to stay awake. Cas's warm hands rubbed up and down his back, lulling him to sleep with the soothing movements. "You should...class tomorrow...sleep..."

"I will," Cas promised softly. He felt Sam's body relax against his own, indicating Sam had fallen asleep again. Cas gently unwound himself from Sam and rearranged the younger man so he would be more comfortable. He tugged the thick blankets up over Sam's body and smoothed them out carefully. He sighed and pushed Sam's hair back from his forehead tenderly. Sam shifted and nudged into Cas's hand, his expression relaxing and the lines on his face smoothing out. Cas smiled a little bit, his chest stinging when he thought of Sam going out with Green this weekend, having a relationship, of how someday it wouldn't be him comforting Sam after a nightmare.

He went back to his bed on the opposite wall and curled up around his tattered pillow, trying to will the deep ache in his chest away.

* * *

"Be home by midnight," Dean said from where he sat cross legged in the center of the couch for the thousandth time since Sam had started to get ready to meet Dave for their date.

"I know," Sam sighed, frustratedly trying to arrange his hair so it wasn't flopping into his eyes. "I'm eighteen years old, Dean."

"You're still my baby brother," Dean snapped. "Midnight. You have a half hour grace period, but then I'm coming after you."

"Oh, God, please don't," Sam muttered, horrified. The last thing he needed was Dean tearing apart the city looking for him. "I'll be home, Dean, okay?"

Dean grunted and shifted his gaze to the window overlooking the street.

"Here, Sam," Cas finally gave in and stood up to help the poor boy with his hair. He led Sam into the kitchen by the hem of his shirt and stood him in front of the sink. Cas wet his hands and ran his fingers through Sam's hair, smoothing out the kinks and pushing some of it back from his eyes, leaving some of the curly strands to fall across his forehead.

"It's always in my face," Sam muttered, looking between the two shirts in his hands as Cas worked on his hair.

"It's fine," Cas smiled reassuringly. His eyes flickered down to the shirts in Sam's hands. "Wear the red one."

"Really?" Sam scrutinized the shirt, uncertain.

"It looks good with your hair," Cas assured him, stepping back and regarding him evaluatingly.

Sam pulled the red shirt on over his white t-shirt and buttoned it to the collar. Cas grimaced and reached out to undo the top button. Sam raised an eyebrow at him in question. Cas smiled a little despite himself. "That's better."

"Can you two please tone down the girliness that's going on in there?" Dean groaned, flopping back on the couch and pressing his forearm across his eyes. "I can feel it from here."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's dramatic complaints. He moved to the front hall and pulled on his jacket. He tucked his cell phone into the pocket and took a deep breath, his stomach contracting nervously. He wasn't sure what to expect or how to act; dating wasn't something that anyone in his family had really done. Dean slept around, Cas hadn't had a relationship since his boyfriend had left him a year ago, and Lester Blackwood hadn't shown any interest in relationships after Sam and Dean's mother had passed away. Sam only had Cas's experiences to go off of, but Cas's ex-boyfriend was the polar opposite of Dave.

"Don't be nervous," Cas said. He motioned to Dean to move over on the couch. Dean grumbled, but shifted onto one cushion and curled his legs up under him so Cas could sit, too. "If he asked you out, he clearly likes you."

"I know," Sam rubbed his temples as he paced back and forth in the small living room. "I'm not nervous."

Dean rolled his eyes at Cas. Cas pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow.

Sam jumped a foot in the air when there was a knock on the door. He moved to open it, stomach twisting with nerves, but found himself looking at the back of his brother's flannel shirt as Dean cut in front of him and pulled the door open.

"Dean-!" Sam yelped, trying to push in front of Dean unsuccessfully. Dean kept his arm across the door so Sam couldn't slip by.

Dave was surprised when the door opened and he was suddenly face to face with a broad shouldered man who fixed him with a serious, warning glare. "Oh, uh, hi. I'm looking for Sam..?"

"He's right here," Dean said shortly, tilting his head towards Sam, who was attempting to push by him into the hallway. "I'm his brother."

"Yeah, he's told me about you," Dave smiled brightly and held his hand out. "Nice to meet you."

Dean eyed his hand distastefully and didn't take it. "I thought it was fair to warn you that if you hurt him, I will hurt you ten times worse."

Dave's smile dropped and he pursed his lips. He had no doubt that Dean was telling the truth; the man was muscular, and probably wouldn't hesitate to beat the crap out of him. However, Dave didn't take too kindly to being threatened; he was taller than Dean and he was sure he could take Dean if he had to. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

Dean set his jaw and glared at Dave challengingly. Dave met his gaze just as determinedly.

"Alright, Dean, that's enough," Sam managed to slide by Dean and made it into the hallway. "Sorry, Dave, let's go."

"Midnight, Sam!" Dean called down the hall after him.

Sam kept walking and rolled his eyes at the ceiling, exasperated. Dave just smiled and put a light hand on the middle of Sam's back as they made their way down the stairs.

* * *

"I had a great time," Sam gave Dave a lopsided grin and dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Yeah," Dave agreed, moving closer to Sam where the younger man was leaning against the rough brick of his apartment building. He was wearing a red button down shirt and dark jeans, and he looked great. His hair fell into his eyes despite his best efforts to keep it out of his face, and Dave was fascinated with the way he ran his calloused fingers through the loose curls and twisted them out of his hazel eyes. "I'm glad you said yes."

"I'm glad you asked," Sam admitted, smiling sweetly at Dave. He was so fucking innocent and Dave found himself incredibly attracted to him. Most of the guys he'd dated in the past had been quiet, complacent, and submissive. From what he'd picked up from watching Sam, he was a little more confident and dominant than Dave was used to, but Dave found the idea of getting Sam to let him take control was unbelievably appealing.

"Good," Dave grinned. "So you'd want to do this again?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, his grin widening. "I would really love that."

"I'll call you, then," Dave promised, pleased.

"Okay," Sam nodded. He started to move towards the door to the building. "Thanks for this. I...I'm looking forward to seeing you again."

Dave reached out and grabbed Sam's sleeve. He pulled Sam towards him and kissed him on the lips gently. He felt Sam freeze for a moment before hesitantly kissing him back. Dave moved his hands to grasp Sam's slim hips and pull him closer. Sam hid his slim body with loose clothes, but he was well muscled; Dave could feel the lithe muscles moving under his hands.

Sam drew away after a few moments, a blush rising in his cheeks. He couldn't stop the goofy smile from spreading over his face. He ducked his head to hide it.

"Night," Dave said softly, dropping his hands from Sam's sides, letting them linger for a moment on his hips before breaking contact.

"Night," San breathed, backing towards the door to the building. He disappeared inside, giving Dave one last breathless smile.

* * *

Castiel cracked his eyes open when he heard the bedroom door open. He heard someone run into the bed frame and stumble, cursing softly. "Sam?"

Sam turned to face Castiel, startled by his voice. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"No, no, it's fine," Castiel rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed. The sheets pooled around his waist and scooted up towards his headboard, motioning for Sam to sit on the end of the bed.

Sam smiled, his teeth almost glowing white in the dark room, and plopped down on Castiel's comforter. He was obviously excited about how his date has gone and eager to talk to someone about it.

"How'd it go?" Castiel kept his voice quiet despite the fact that Dean wasn't home. He'd been called in to work the late shift at the garage and left around eight, grumbling about how Sam had better be home on time.

Sam grinned and leaned back against the wall, rolling his shoulders. "It was...it was great, Castiel. I was afraid it would be awkward, but we have a lot in common. We had stuff to talk about, and he thinks I'm interesting."

Sam was practically glowing. Castiel forced the lump in his throat down and managed a grin. "That's great, Sam."

Sam's hand stole to his lips and he pulled at his bottom lip, smiling. He looked down at the bedspread and laughed shortly. "He kissed me."

"It was your first one?" Castiel already knew the answer, but asked anyway. He must be some kind of glutton for punishment.

Sam nodded, tugging at his lip absentmindedly. "Yeah. It was...it was nice."

"You like him very much?" Castiel asked.

Sam shrugged. "I think so. Yeah. He...I feel really...really good right now about this."

"I'm happy for you," Castiel said truthfully. Even though it hurt to see Sam falling for this guy.

"Thanks, Castiel," Sam's eyes lifted to meet Castiel's steady gaze. "I...thanks for being so supportive. I know Dean's a little freaked out about me dating."

"He's going to worry," Castiel shrugged. "He is your brother."

"Are you worried?" Sam asked, really looking at Castiel for the first time that night. He was a little bit hunched as he regarded Sam from his spot by the headboard. Castiel was not as broad Sam was, and a couple of inches shorter. Despite his smaller stature, he gave off a protective aura that made Sam feel indescribably safe around him. He always seemed to fold in on himself, as if he wished people wouldn't notice him, something he'd used to survive in his house when one of his siblings was on a rampage. His dark hair was ruffled as usual, and Sam recalled how Castiel's ex had once referred to it as Castiel's perpetual sex hair. Castiel smiled softly at him, tugging at the sleeves of one of his God awful thick sweaters and shifting a little bit to fold his legs partially under himself. He was wearing flannel boxers that he'd had forever, and Sam was suddenly struck by what a faucet Castiel had become in his life. Castiel didn't ever change, not even his wardrobe had evolved much, and while it was nice to have him as a constant force, Sam had to wonder if Castiel had ever wanted to leave them, move on and start a new life on his own with a boyfriend.

"Do you ever think about dating again, Castiel?" Sam asked softly, moving closer to him.

Castiel noticed and held his arm out so Sam could move to sit next to him with Castiel's arm around his shoulders. He was taken aback by Sam's question and considered it a few moments. "Sometimes. I don't think it will happen anytime soon."

"Why not?" Sam asked, resting his head on Castiel's shoulder. He twisted Castiel's flannel sheets through his fingers.

Castiel shrugged. "I'm happy here, with you and Dean." he paused. Sam felt Cas's chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath. "I just don't want to have a boyfriend right now."

"Do you miss Chuck?" Sam asked softly.

"Not anymore," Castiel shook his head. He rested his temple against Sam's hair. "We didn't want the same things. I knew he would leave."

Sam closed his eyes and rubbed his face against Castiel's shoulder. "You'll find someone who deserves you."

Castiel pursed his lips and shrugged a little. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting him, not with all his baggage and anxiety; Chuck had been the exception. "You should sleep. Dean will be home soon and if you're awake, he'll interrogate you."

Sam groaned and snuggled into Castiel's side. He dreaded the thought of how that conversation with his brother would go and shivered. He remembered when Dean had given him The Talk when he'd turned sixteen; he did not want a repeat performance of Dean's awkward, spluttering attempts to explain using protection. "I don't want to talk to him about it."

"He just wants to protect you," Castiel's lips curled into a smile, curling his fingers into the sleeve of Sam's jacket. "His intentions are good."

Sam hummed. He felt completely content at that moment; he'd had a good time with Dave and it seemed like Dave liked him, he'd been kissed and it had been everything he'd imagined, and now he was insanely comfortable wrapped in Castiel's warm, brotherly embrace.

He vaguely heard Castiel greet Dean as Dean arrived home, before he drifted to sleep.

* * *

**There it is! I hope you liked it.**

**Please REVIEW if you have a second! I appreciate it, and they mean a lot to me. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it took so long to update! I was so focused on my other fics I kind of forgot about this one for a while, so I hope there's still some interest. I will get better about keeping this one updated. **

**CHAPTER WARNINGS: language, implied sex (person being pressured into sex), slash.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Sam perked up when there was a knock on the front door and sprang to his feet, tossing his textbook to the couch. He trotted to the front door and pulled it open, breaking out into a grin when he saw Dave standing there.

"Hey," Dave greeted Sam warmly, leaning forward to peck his lips. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, retreating back to grab his coat off the hook on the wall. "One second." He turned around to see if Dean was in the kitchen and caught sight of Cas as the older boy came out of the bedroom, yawning and running his hands through his thick hair. He was wearing an open white button down (that was probably Sam's judging by the size), showing off the dark hair on his chest that condensed into a line of curls that went down the center of his stomach and disappeared under the waistband of his boxers, and he was barefoot. "Hey, Cas, I'm going out for breakfast. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Yeah," Cas agreed, rubbing his eyes. "I have a class at two, so I-" he suddenly seemed to catch sight of Dave in the doorway. He blushed and tugged his shirt around himself, hiding his body from view. Cas was conservative, almost painfully so, when it came to his body. Sam forgot sometimes, because Cas had become so relaxed around him and Dean after knowing them most of his life. "Oh, sorry, I didn't..."

"Don't worry about it, Cas," Sam waved it off easily. He linked his fingers through Dave's and pulled him over the threshold into the small, shabby apartment.

Dave glanced around, interested. He'd seen snatches of it when he'd come to pick Sam up for the past couple of weeks, but he hadn't been inside before. It was small; a kitchen, a living room, the small front hall, and what looked like one bedroom with an adjoining bathroom. Dave pursed his lips when he saw that there was only one bedroom. That meant that unless the beat up couch pulled out, Sam slept in the same room as another guy.

Another guy who was undeniably attractive. Dave had never seen Castiel as anything but the weird quiet kid before, but without his sweaters and dorky glasses, he was cute. With his open shirt and bleary eyes and rumpled hair, he looked like he'd just had sex, and Dave drew his bottom lip into his mouth and tried not to think of Sam sleeping with him.

Sam wouldn't do that. Sam obviously had little to no experience, and Castiel was practically a monk. Dave remembered the rumors going around when Cas's boyfriend had left him; Chuck had cheated on Cas because the guy wouldn't put out. Dave tried to brush off his thoughts as irrational, but couldn't completely banish the idea from his mind.

"You know Dave," Sam introduced his boyfriend to Cas, and Dave obligingly held out his hand. Castiel took it, keeping his shirt closed with his other hand. Surprisingly, the smaller man's hand was calloused, and Dave had to wonder what Castiel had done in his life to get hands like that. It seemed like whenever Dave saw him all he was doing was reading. "And I think you know Cas?"

"Yeah, we've met," Dave nodded, forcing a smile.

Castiel gave him a strained smile, clutching the front of the shirt together more tightly. "Nice to see you."

"I'll see you tonight," Sam called to Castiel as he tugged Dave out of the apartment by his hand.

Dave heard Castiel call out goodbye before he closed the door to the apartment.

"Your brother's at work?" Dave asked, moving to wrap his arm around Sam's waist as they walked down the street to the diner he had in mind.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, glancing over at Dave. He still had a hard time getting used to having a boyfriend. The guys who had given him crap about hanging around with Cas had stopped bothering him, and Dave gave him his complete, undivided attention. He wasn't used to it, and it was off putting at first, but now he found that it made him feel good that someone wanted to listen to him. Dean was always busy, and Cas barely looked up from his books most of the time lately. "He's been picking up some extra shifts lately, since Cas lost his job."

"Oh, he did?" Dave asked, seeing the chance to segue into what he really wanted to talk about. The Cas Issue needed to be addressed and cleared up as soon as possible.

"Yeah, the restaurant he's been working at had to close down a couple weeks ago," Sam continued, looking around at the other people on the street as they walked by. "He's looking for new gig, but he's got a huge workload with his classes and no one's really hiring..."

"Has he lived with you guys since you came out here?" Dave asked hesitantly.

"We've been friends since we were five," Sam nodded, slightly confused at the sudden interest Dave had in Cas. "He's my best friend."

"Does...I mean, you guys have one bedroom," Dave struggled to find the words to get his question across.

Sam looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "We all have separate beds. Cas is like my brother."

"I know," Dave insisted, but Sam's statement had made him feel a little better. "I know. I was just curious, you know. You and him seem close."

"We are close," Sam said shortly. "But not like that."

Dave nodded, placated, but couldn't help but wonder if Sam was being completely honest.

* * *

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked, tossing his keys on the counter and collapsing into the chair. He wiped his face with his grease-stained sleeve. He felt a cool cloth being pressed to his forehead and took it from Cas's hand to rub his face with it, relishing the damp chill against his flushed skin. "Thanks, Cas."

"You've been gone since seven a.m.," Cas sat down on the couch and regarded Dean with concern. "You look tired."

"I picked up Mike's shift," Dean replied, placing the cloth over his burning eyes and sighing deeply in relief, stretching out in the chair and sprawling over the cushions.

"Dean..." Cas started, and Dean could hear the apology in his voice.

"Cas," he cut the man off and shook his head. "Don't worry about it, okay? I know you're trying to find a job. It's hard out there."

"I put in some applications at restaurants and stores around here," Cas said, chewing on his bottom lip. "I applied at the library as well. People seem to be...put off by me."

"Don't pay attention to them," Dean removed the washcloth from his eyes and straightened up in the chair so he could level a sincere, steady gaze at Cas. Cas shifted uncomfortably on the couch and looked down at his hands. Cas had always struggled with putting himself out there because he was always judged so harshly. His family thought he was too liberal to be part of their lives, and most other people thought he was a religious, awkward freak. People made fun of his hand-me-down clothes, his formal speech, how uptight he was, and though he could usually ignore it, it took a toll. Dean had watched him struggle with the harsh criticism for years. "You don't ever have to change, Cas. Someone will hire you, and until they do, I can cover the rent." He flopped back onto the chair and replaced the cloth over his burning eyes. "Where's Sam?"

Cas shrugged and glanced at the clock. Dean's words made him feel a little better. All he'd been getting from possible employers were odd looks and managers telling him they weren't hiring. Sometimes he felt like he'd been raised on another planet and belonged in a completely different species.

"He should be home soon," Cas replied, noting that it was almost nine o' clock. Sam would have gotten out of class two hours ago. He must have met Dave somewhere. Cas grimaced automatically at the thought, but he managed to school his face back into a stoic expression before Dean could see.

"He's been gone all week," Dean muttered, disgruntled. He'd never admit that he missed Sam, but he was used to having his brother around. Lately, with Sam gone so much with his new boyfriend, Dean was being forced to entertain the all too real possibility of Sam moving out someday. He pushed the thoughts down, and instead asked Cas, "What's for dinner?"

* * *

Dave tightened his arms around Sam and kissed him more deeply, pulling the younger man closer to him. Sam's hands ran up his back and twined through his hair, tugging gently. Sam had caught on pretty fast how to kiss, how to touch, how to move, taking the cues Dave gave him and responding how Dave wanted. Not that they'd gone much past kissing, but Dave was ready for that to change tonight.

A small gasp escaped Sam's lips when Dave hit the passenger's seat lever so the seat fell back flat, leaving Sam pinned to the seat with Dave straddling his waist. Dave smiled against Sam's neck and laughed softly.

"Wasn't expecting that," Sam breathed, taking the moment to catch his breath. He felt Dave's hands slide around him and move down his stomach.

Sam grabbed his wrists to stop Dave's hands as they traveled down below his waistband. "Dave, hold on a second..."

"What?" Dave asked innocently, nuzzling his nose against Sam's neck.

Sam tried to clear his head and pushed away from Dave a little bit. He was overwhelmed by the heat of Dave's hands against his skin and the mess of confusing emotion raging in his chest. "I don't think...I don't know if I can...what exactly are you thinking of...?"

"I was thinking your mouth would be occupied with something other than talking and kissing right now," Dave replied, moving his mouth back to Sam's neck and sucking lightly. Sam drew in a sharp breath and his eyes slid shut. "Hmmm?"

"I'm not sure if I can do that yet..." Sam admitted, biting back a moan. "It's...it hasn't even been a month."

"I think that's plenty of time," Dave argued, slowly moving himself up Sam's body. "It's not a big deal, Sam. I promise, I'll walk you through it, babe."

Sam hesitated and tried to keep Dave from pushing him downwards. "I...Dave, please...I think we should wait."

"Sam," Mike groaned against the headrest. "Don't be such a fucking prude. I've been taking you out for weeks, don't you think you can do this for me? Please?"

"I..." Sam still seemed uncertain. Dave felt his breath against his stomach, just over his belly button, and he pushed against Sam insistently.

"We're dating," Dave said firmly. "This is what people do when they date. I know you're new at it. I wouldn't lie to you, baby. Don't you want to be in a normal relationship? Don't you like me?"

"Of course I do," Sam muttered, uncertain. It's not like he knew what he was doing when it came to dating. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, and his heart started to beat fast in a completely different way than it had before.

"So if you like me, why can't you do this?" Dave asked. "Is it because of Cas?"

"What?" Sam asked, confused by the sudden change of subject.

"You've done this for him, haven't you?" Dave slid further up Sam's body and pushed Sam down in the seat.

"No, I told you, he and I aren't..." Sam argued. Dave's legs were pressed to the seat on either side of his chest as Dave kneeled over him and he felt trapped and a little scared. "I haven't."

"You're nervous?" Dave leaned down and stroked Sam's cheek. "That's cute, Sam. You'll do fine. I promise. You want to keep going out with me, don't you?"

Sam wasn't sure what Dave was trying to say. Because he wouldn't be saying that he'd break up with Sam if Sam didn't...

Sam couldn't deal with a break up. Since he started dating Dave, he'd been genuinely happier; classmates treated him better, he felt appreciated, and Dave was great. Dave was amazing. Dave made him feel good looking, made him feel validated, made him feel like he had a chance at a normal life.

Of course he was nervous. He'd never done this before. Dave was right.

Dave was right.

Sam kept repeating it to himself as Dave tangled his fingers in Sam's hair and pushed his head down.

* * *

"Sam?" Dean called when he heard the front door open and close. He heard the deadbolt and the two other locks Dean had installed on the door click into place. Sam didn't reply, but Dean heard his jacket drop to the floor and his footsteps heading towards the bedroom. "Sam! get in here."

Sam appeared in the kitchen doorway and snapped, "What is it, Dean?"

"I haven't seen you all week," Dean replied, holding up his hands in a 'don't shoot' gesture. "I just wanted to talk to you, see how you were doing."

"Fine," Sam rubbed his eyes. They were rimmed with red. Dean attributed it to his nightmares keeping him awake at night. He leaned in the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest. His fingers worried the fabric of his jacket at his elbow. "Dean, I'm tired. Can I please just go to bed?"

"Yeah, don't ask me," Dean turned back to the fridge, feeling irritated that Sam was blowing him off, again. "You're an adult now. Do what you want."

Sam stood in the doorway a few moments. Dean could tell Sam wanted him to say something, but he was pissed and tired and hungry, so he continued to determinedly dig through the fridge. He heard Sam quietly sigh and step out of the kitchen. Sam retraced his interrupted path to the bedroom, determined to make it to the bathroom before he threw up all over the living room carpet.

Sam glanced at Cas's bed as he passed and saw that the older boy was asleep. He'd fallen asleep reading, and Sam took a second to tug the book out from under him so his head was lying on the pillow instead of the stiff cover. Cas curled up around his blankets and snorted in his sleep, nuzzling his nose into his soft flannel sheets.

Sam's mouth twitched into a smile, and it hurt his swollen lips, reminding him of what he had originally been heading to do.

He continued on to the bathroom and took a moment to lean heavily on the sink and look at himself in the mirror. His lips were red and noticeably swollen. It hurt to swallow and his throat spasmed as he leaned over the counter.

Sam stumbled to the toilet and collapsed over the bowl, gripping the rim tightly as he heaved. Only stringy bile came up. It tasted worse coming up, and Sam felt sick as that thought crossed his mind. It sent him into another round of dry heaves.

"Hey, Sam, calm down," Sam felt arms around his waist, big hands rubbing his stomach soothingly, and his own body being pulled back against Dean's chest. He clung to the bowl and coughed and choked and heaved. He wasn't sure if the tears running down his face were only from the force of coughing. "Deep breaths, Sammy, c'mon, deep breaths." Sam tried to listen, tried to follow his brother's instructions, but his diaphragm kept jerking and his stomach was rolling and he couldn't suck in air. "Sam! Sammy, calm down. Breathe with me, okay? Breathe."

It took Sam a few minutes, but he finally was able to match the rising and falling of his brother's chest against his back with his own, his breath only hitching occasionally. He slowly became aware of Dean holding him up and muttering soothingly to him and Cas leaning in the door frame, half asleep but watching with concern.

He blushed and pulled away from Dean, plopping onto the floor with his back pressed against the cabinet under the sink. He took a few careful, deep breaths without choking and clenched his shaking hands together tightly in his lap.

"Drink," Cas pushed a cup of water into his hands and Sam sipped it gratefully, not looking up at his brother or his friend.

Dean was scrutinizing Sam with a mixture of curiosity and uneasiness as he took in the way his little brother was trying to hide how hard he was shaking.

"Are you okay, Sam?" he asked softly, kneeling in front of him so they were eye to eye. Sam refused to meet his gaze. "Sam."

Sam reluctantly looked up at the gentle command and spoke quietly, hoping they wouldn't notice his hoarse voice. "I'm okay. Sorry. I must have eaten something today that didn't...didn't agree with me."

Dean still looked suspicious, but accepted the excuse and stood, reaching down to grasp Sam's arms and help him stand. Sam allowed his brother to pull him to his feet and immediately broke contact with him, turning to face the sink. He got the toothpaste from the cabinet behind the mirror and ran the toothbrush under the tap before setting to brush his teeth thoroughly, until the bitter taste in his mouth and throat was gone.

"What did you eat?" Cas asked, moving to flush the toilet. His hand ghosted over Sam's back and pressed against his side reassuringly as he slipped by. Sam saw him pause and examine the vomit for a few moments, his lips pursed. He flushed it and shot Sam a questioning glance, and Sam inwardly groaned. Cas knew.

"Uh, fish," Sam lied, hoping Dean would believe him. He was less observant than Cas, even if he was just as protective. "Must have been bad."

"Sucks," Dean sympathized gruffly, and Sam almost let out an audible sigh of relief. The thought of telling Dean what had happened, what he'd done, made him want to throw up again. "I'll get you a puke bucket in case you have to throw up again."

He disappeared from the room and Sam heard him banging around in the kitchen cabinets in search of a bowl.

Sam set his toothbrush aside. His mouth still felt dirty and tasted bad, but he could feel Cas contemplating him seriously and he figured he should stop before Cas became even more suspicious. "What?"

"That was not food," Cas said simply.

Sam winced and turned around to grip desperately at the front of Cas's oversized nightshirt. He gazed down at Cas, his eyes begging for Cas to just drop it. "Please don't say anything to Dean. He'd kill me. Please."

"Why would he be upset?" Cas asked, his eyebrows furrowing. "He always seems proud of his own exploits. You are old enough, Sam."

"Just don't tell him Cas," Sam repeated, exasperated. "He still thinks I'm eight years old, okay? He would flip out."

"It made you feel sick," Cas noted softly, nodding at the toilet.

"I'm just not used to it," Sam said firmly, his hands shaking where they were gripping Cas's shirt tightly. "I'm just not used to it..."

* * *

_"Good job, babe," Dave said breathlessly, pulling Sam up to rest his head on Sam's chest for a moment before leaning over him and pressing a kiss to the side of his lips. "Swallow."_

_Sam gagged, but did as he was told._

_"My God, that's beautiful," Dave said softly, watching Sam's throat work. "You're fucking perfect, Sam."_

_Sam tried to smile, but couldn't get his lips to curve upwards. He felt sick, like there was a cold, heavy weight that had settled to the bottom of his stomach._

_He panicked and choked when there were suddenly lips against his and a tongue in his mouth, but relaxed marginally as Dave rubbed his shoulders and cupped his cheek gently. Dave's mouth moved against his when he spoke, "Thank you so much, Sam. You did well. You did really, really well. It'll get easier."_

_Sam whimpered at the thought of having to do it again. He felt humiliated, demeaned, used, disgusting; he just wanted to brush his teeth until the dirty feeling went away._

_"Shhh," Dave kissed his cheek and held him tightly. "Sam, c'mon. It's alright. I know it's difficult the first few times, babe. I wouldn't ask you to do it if I didn't want to feel close to you."_

_Sam searched Dave's face carefully and found nothing but sincerity there. He managed to weakly quirk one side of his mouth upwards. "I know..." he cleared his throat when his voice came out hoarse. "I know you wouldn't. I just...I just have to get used to it."_

_Dave noticed the raggedness of Sam's voice when he spoke. He reached over to the cup holder and grabbed a bottle of water. Sam took it gratefully and gulped down the rest of it, feeling Dave's eyes on his throat. He ducked his head and sat up a little bit. "It was alright."_

_Dave grinned warmly and kissed Sam on the lips again._

* * *

"C'mon, Sam," Dean gripped Sam's elbow and led him into the bedroom, sitting him down on the edge of the bed and pushing a plastic bowl into his shaking hands. "Get some sleep. I think you're just tired."

"Yeah," Sam agreed softly, pushing his hair out of his eyes where it stuck to his forehead in sweaty tangles. He turned sideways to curl up in bed with his back to Dean and the rest of the bedroom. He placed the bowl by the wall in case he needed it, but his stomach wasn't rolling anymore; it just ached.

"Thanks, Dean."

"Yeah," Dean replied quietly, standing next to Sam's bed and watching him curl up into an impossibly small ball. He was reminded of Sam when he was younger, curling his small body under the thin blankets of their bed and flushed with fever, or plagued with the flu or a cold. It had been so easy when they were younger to curl up next to him and rub his back soothingly in an attempt to help him fall asleep. Dean knew that even if he tried, Sam would refuse to give up his dignity like that. "Night, Sam."

"Night," Sam said back. He felt the blankets being pulled over his body and Dean's hands smoothing them out and tucking them under his legs and feet. He felt like he should tell Dean to cut it out, that he wasn't five anymore, but he couldn't bring himself to deny the comfort Dean's touch offered.

* * *

Dean watched Sam's eyes drift shut and stepped away from his bedside, pulling the covers up over Sam's shoulders. He could feel Cas's gaze on him, scanning him for some sort of indication on what to do.

Dean jerked his head towards the living room and Cas nodded slowly before following him. He pulled the door shut behind him, giving Sam's back one last troubled look.

Dean collapsed onto the couch and rubbed his shadowed eyes, working hard to keep them open. "I think he needs to spend more time at home. This relationship is making him come home late, and he's not sleeping, and it's making him sick. He's got a heavy workload with his classes, and I think he needs to relax..."

"You can't stop him from seeing his boyfriend," Cas pointed out gently. "I agree." He went on when he saw Dean open his mouth to argue. "He needs to come home earlier and get some more sleep. But if you try to keep him locked in here he'll only want to leave more."

Dean dropped his head into his hands and let out a long breath. He looked down at his hands, at the discoloration from burns and grease that covered his palms in splotches, at his shaking fingers. "I'm so tired, Cas."

Cas understood that Dean wasn't simply speaking of his physical state at that moment, but more of his emotional state over the past two years. Dean had been working hard to take care of Sam, and having the responsibility of caring for a teenager when he was only eighteen himself was exhausting. And now Sam was barely home, always off with his boyfriend or at class, and Dean, though he would never admit it, missed him like hell. Dean was run down and lost and tired, and Cas didn't know how to fix it. He didn't know how to fix any of this. He crossed his arms over his chest and gripped his elbows tightly. He cleared his throat, but all he had to offer was a soft, "I know."

Dean scrubbed his face with his hands and didn't look up.

* * *

"Sam?"

Sam froze when he heard Dave's voice call his name as he walked down his apartment hallway to leave the building for class. He turned and found Dave rushing towards him with two roses, their stems wrapped in folded paper.

Dave came to a stop in front of him and smiled uncertainly. Sam struggled to smile back. He still felt a little off from the other night. "Hi. I'm glad I caught you. You haven't been answering your phone."

"It's dead," Sam lied. He glanced at the door at the end of the hall and hiked his bag up on his shoulder. He wanted to get away from Dave for now; he didn't know how to act in this situation. "I'm late for class."

"So a few more minutes won't hurt," Dave pointed out, sensing Sam's reluctance. He gripped Sam's wrist to keep him from moving away and held out the roses. "I got you these."

Sam accepted the roses hesitantly. No one had ever gotten him flowers before, ever, and it was a nice feeling, despite Sam's uneasiness about the other night. Despite himself, Sam felt a warm feeling creep into his chest. "Thanks."

"You deserve them," Dave said earnestly. He wrapped his arms around Sam and hugged him tightly, breathing in the scent of his sweet smelling soap. "You're the best, Sam. You're beautiful, smart, amazing, and I am so damn lucky to have you in my life, babe. You know that's how I feel, don't you?"

"You...you do?" Sam asked, stunned at the admission. He clutched the flowers to his chest and slowly returned Dave's hug, his initial wariness melted a little by the warm praise. Dave wasn't acting weird about this at all; he didn't treat Sam any differently than he had before. Sam was slightly comforted by Dave's reassurance.

"Of course I do," Dave grinned and kissed Sam on the mouth. "I would never lie to you."

Sam ducked his head and smiled, and for the first time in days, it was genuine.

* * *

**There it is. I hope you liked it. I will get better about updating, I promise! Next part, Cas's life takes a turn (for the worse, obviously. If you've read my other stuff, you probably saw the angst coming from a mile away). **

**Leave a review if you have a minute! I really appreciate them and they motivate me during the week when I feel uninspired. Thanks so much.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four!**

**Thanks for the favorites, follows, and reviews! I really appreciate them, they honestly make my day, so thanks again,**

**CHAPTER WARNINGS: language, minor character death (canon), slash, domestic abuse**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Castiel slid another book into its proper place on the shelf and rearranged them so they were standing up straight. He turned back to the library's rolling cart marked "returned books" and picked up the next one, flipping it over in his hands to see where he'd have to drag the contraption next. He'd been working in the library for about a week, and although it didn't pay as well as his last job, it was enough so that Dean didn't have to work fourteen-hour days anymore.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket as he moved towards the self-help section and he paused to dig his phone out of his jeans. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the caller ID, holding the phone next to his hip so the cart hid it from the people at the front desk.

BALTHAZAR

Castiel's eyebrows drew together. Balthazar was by far his favorite sibling, even if he hadn't been around much when Castiel was older. He had avoided Michael by spending most of his time bouncing around town and staying with friends. He hated to hear his siblings fight.  
Balthazar had been the one to get a good job in television production and was able afford to pay for the portion of Castiel's education that couldn't be covered by the money their mother had left him.

Still, Balthazar rarely called; he would text or show up at the door, but Castiel couldn't remember the last time they'd talked on the phone.

Castiel flipped the simple phone open and pressed it to his ear. He spoke softly, though the library was almost deserted on the brisk, bright Saturday afternoon. "Balthazar? Hi."

"Hey, Castiel," Balthazar greeted him, sounding a far cry from his usual jovial, quietly amused self. "I have some bad news."

"I figured," Castiel leaned back on the rolling book cart and braced himself, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. He wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged nervously at the hem on his thick sweater. His stomach felt like it had suddenly been filled with lead. "What happened?"

"Anna...Anna's dead," Balthazar said bluntly. "Car crash. The other car barely had a dent. She careened off into a tree. Hit it head on."

"Oh, God," Castiel slumped over and reached out to grip one of the shelves to keep himself standing, stunned. He'd been expecting bad news but not...not anything like this. "Balthazar...Oh, God..."

"Castiel, listen," Balthazar said urgently. "The funeral's Monday. Can you make it?"

"Yes," Castiel choked, feeling a sting behind his eyes as tears formed. He swallowed hard and added softly, "Can I bring Sam and Dean?"

"I think that would be a good idea," Balthazar said lowly. "Michael is on the rampage, and it's hard enough for me to keep track of the younger ones. Sam and Dean can watch you better than I can right now."

"We'll be there early Monday morning," Castiel promised, hunching his shoulders and leaning more heavily on the shelf. He gripped the lip of the shelf so hard his knuckles turned white. A small sound of distress escaped his lips and he pressed them firmly together to try to cut it off.

"Castiel?" Balthazar said softly. "Where are you?"

"Working," Castiel replied, squeezing his eyes shut. The bright lights on the ceiling suddenly seemed too bright. "At the library."

Balthazar cursed under his breath. "I should have made sure you were at home before I told you. I'm sorry, Cas…"

"It's not...it's not..." Castiel was trying desperately not to cry. He didn't cry, he hadn't cried in years, and he'd never cried in public. But he couldn't get the last thing Anna had said to him out of his mind; it ran on repeat through his brain, shrill and desperate, _"I'm so sorry, Castiel, I'm so fucking sorry, I was mad, I didn't know he'd do this to you...I'm sorry..."_

A dry sob escaped his lips.

"Castiel, give the phone to one of your coworkers," Balthazar commanded firmly, leaving no room for argument. Castiel stood up shakily and complied immediately, tugging the book cart behind him as he made his way to the front desk.

He paused in front of Ash's check out isle. Ash was nice, didn't call him a freak, and treated him like a person. If there was anyone who wouldn't make fun of him or beat him up for bawling like an idiot, it would be Ash.

Ash glanced up from the book in his hand when he saw Castiel, and his expression quickly changed from pleasant to concerned. "You okay, Castiel?"

Castiel shook his head and tried to speak, but the lump in his throat stopped him. He could hear Balthazar's voice through the phone speakers and passed the phone to Ash, his hands shaking so hard he could barely keep a grip on it.

Ash put it to his ear, eyeing Castiel nervously, and listened to Balthazar speak for a few moments. His mouth twitched into a frown and his eyes widened as he listened. "Oh, my God. Yeah, no...no, man, that's totally fine. Yeah...okay...okay..." Ash jotted something down on a sheet of paper. "Alright, I'll make sure he gets home. Yeah. Sorry for your loss, man."

Ash hung up the phone and handed it back to Castiel, frowning. "That sucks, dude."

Castiel nodded and wrapped his arms around himself tightly. He wanted to go home.

"Your brother wants me to call Dean or Sam," Ash went on, watching Castiel carefully. The man was strangely silent and unresponsive, his skin pale and his eyes shining. Ash wasn't sure if it would help to try to hug him or pat his shoulder or something, but restrained himself, uncertain.

"Dean's at work," Castiel managed to say, clearing his throat and gaining the ability to speak. "I...I'm fine. I can call Sam myself."

"If you're sure, dude," Ash raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "You want to go into the back room?"

"That would be preferable, yes," Castiel nodded and replied slowly. He went around the counter and entered the small back room, closing the door behind him. There were boxes and boxes of a new shipment of books that were slowly but surely being added to the database and shelved, but not much else in the room, with the exception of a small electric coffee pot in the corner.

Castiel sank into a cross-legged position on the floor and dialed Sam's number, working on autopilot. He suddenly felt detached and far away from what was happening around him; he felt like he was watching himself through a window.

Sam's phone rang four times before he answered. Cas let out an inadvertent sigh of relief when he heard Sam's voice on the other end. "Hello?"

"Sam," Castiel said steadily. "I need you to come pick me up."

"What?" Castiel heard what sounded like a stack of books or papers falling to the floor and David Green saying something in the background. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?"

"I am fine, physically," Castiel replied blankly. "Anna was killed in a car crash. Her funeral is Monday afternoon."

There was shocked silence for a few moments before Sam breathed softly, "Oh my God, Castiel. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'll be right there. Just hold on, give me, like, ten minutes. I'm at Dave's."

"I'm sorry," Castiel apologized, squeezing his eyes shut tightly against the tears he felt stinging at the corners. He added through gritted teeth, "I don't want to inconvenience you, but Dean's at work, and..."

"You're never an inconvenience, Castiel," Sam said firmly. "Don't think like that. I'll be there soon, okay? Call me if you have to, but I'll be there in, like, ten minutes. Bye."

Castiel hung up the phone and tossed it to the side. It skidded across the dirt on the floor and stopped after a few feet. Castiel picked it up again and pitched it against the wall.

This time it smashed into pieces.

* * *

Dave trailed after his frantic boyfriend into the library, sighing irritably. Sam had been adamant they rush down here to come to the rescue of his little friend, and, honestly, Dave was annoyed. He was just about to get Sam's shirt off, something the younger man had been reluctant to do before now (which was ridiculous considering what he'd done in Dave's car a couple weeks ago).

Sam had pushed him away and answered the call, and now here they were, at the library on a perfectly good Saturday, probably the last nice one before it got really cold out.

"He's in the back room," the kid with the mullet and hair to his waist told Sam when he saw Sam burst through the doors and look around wildly. "He's just staring at a wall right now."

Sam cursed under his breath and went behind the desk and into the little back room. Dave followed him into the room, pausing to hover in the doorway and watch the scene unfold in front of him.

Castiel was sitting on the floor amidst the pieces of a broken electronic; a phone, judging by the size of the key pad on one shard of the plastic. He was staring at the opposite wall blankly and didn't react when the door opened.

"Cas," Sam said his name softly. He knelt down next to him and lightly touched his shoulder, then his cheek, trying to get Castiel to look at him. "Castiel, look at me. C'mon, man."

Cas blinked at the sound of his full name and seemed to see Sam for the first time. His shoulders sagged in relief. "You're here."

"I told you I'd come get you," Sam pointed out, smiling gently and moving his hand to grasp Castiel's elbow. "Are you ready to go?"

"She hit a tree," Castiel met Sam's eyes seriously. "She was knocked off the road by another car. The other people were okay."

Sam nodded, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip and rubbing Castiel's back absentmindedly. Sam was obviously worried about Castiel, and Dave reluctantly had to agree with his concern; Cas's gaze was blank and distant. On the other hand, Dave wasn't too happy with how tactile Sam was being with Castiel. He didn't like the way Sam was tenderly rubbing gentle circles on his back and looking at him with that sad, concerned sparkle in his dark hazel eyes.

"Let's get you home, Castiel," Sam tugged Castiel to his feet by his elbow and steadied him when Castiel faltered. "It's alright. I've got you."

Castiel blinked and looked up into Sam's face solemnly. When he spoke, his voice was low and sincere. "I know you do."

Dave clenched his hands so tightly into fists his nails bit into his palms.

Yeah. This couldn't happen anymore. He was putting a stop to this.

* * *

Sam glanced at the clock above the sink in Dave's apartment and saw that it was getting late. He still had to pack, and Dean had said they were going to leave late that night to get to Kansas in time for the funeral. He pushed Dave away from where Dave was moving his hands down his body and kissed him on the mouth before drawing away and starting to stand.

Dave pushed him back down and pinned him to the couch, kneeling over him with a knee on either side of his chest. He ran a hand through Sam's thick hair, pushing it out of his face. "What's up, Sam?"

"I should get going," Sam pulled himself into a half-sitting position and propped himself up on his elbows. "I have to pack. We're leaving soon to get to Kansas in time."

Dave's frown deepened as Sam broke contact and slid out from under him to sit up at the other end of the couch. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too," Sam replied, smiling a little bit and reaching out to grip Dave's hands in his own for a moment. "I'll be back Wednesday, though. It's not too long."

"Whatever, Sam," Dave muttered disgruntledly and stood up. He stomped over towards his kitchen and started to rifle through the fridge for a beer.

"Dave, what is it?" Sam's eyebrows drew together. He followed Dave into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. Dave ignored him and dug through a drawer to find his bottle opener. "It's only a few days."

"But it's with _him_, Sam," Dave sighed, popping the top off his beer. Sam tried not to flinch. Dave drank, but not like their father had. It still made Sam marginally nervous to have alcohol around the house, or have people drinking around him. Dean had noticed after the first few times he drank around Sam and began restricting himself to just drinking when he was out. "You know I don't like you hanging out with him."

"Cas?" Sam asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I've told you a thousand times, Cas and I are not interested in each other. He's my best friend. His sister just died and he needs my support."

"So he takes precedence over me?" Dave demanded, turning to face Sam and taking a swing of his beer. "For God' sake, Sam, I'm your boyfriend. Not him. I want you here. You can't go."

"I can't go?" Sam repeated incredulously. "Are you giving me an order?"

"Yes," Dave replied calmly, leaning back against the counter. His eyes flashed challengingly. "I am."

Sam gaped at him for a moment before he shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. "You can't do that. I'm my own person. I can make my own choices."

"Can you?" Dave demanded, moving towards Sam startlingly fast and pinning him to the counter with a hand on either side of Sam's body. "You've made your choice already, Sam. How often do you even see them anymore? Do you have any idea what you've put them through? They're probably thrilled you've been gone so much."

"That's not true," Sam said steadily, but a prick of uncertainty nagged him in the back of his mind. He couldn't help but think of all the times Dean came home exhausted and frustrated, said no to a date because he had to work or come home and take care of Sam. He thought of Cas working and going to school so they could pay rent, Cas slowly retreating more and more into himself since Chuck left. That had been Sam's fault; Cas had continued to live with Sam and Dean, and Chuck felt like their relationship wasn't important to Cas, and like he loved Cas more than Cas could love him.

All because of Sam, all because they had devoted their lives to taking care of him.

"Your brother and Cas have been working themselves to death to pay for that apartment and food and school supplies for you," Dave said softly, his mouth close to Sam's ear. Sam could feel Dave's warm breath puff against his skin. "You don't think they get sick of you? They should be out partying with their friends, they should have lives outside school, work, and you. But they can't."

"I didn't...I didn't ask for that," Sam argued weakly, turning his face away from Dave. Dave's words sent an ache through his chest. Sam knew Dean and Cas sacrificed a lot to take care of him. He knew that is he wasn't around their lives would be easier. But they loved him, he knew they did... "They both love me."

Sam lurched to the side when an open palm made contact with his face. He gasped and reached up to touch the tender spot on his cheek where a red mark was undoubtedly forming rapidly. He gazed up at Dave, shocked.

"Don't ever say that he loves you," Dave growled, leaning over Sam and forcing him to crowd against the counter. "He doesn't care about you. If he does, why are you here? Why do you need me if he loves you so much? I care about you more than he ever could."

Sam shook his head, unable to look at Dave. His head was whirling with thoughts of "He hit me" "He's right" "Dean and Cas are probably dreading me coming with them for this" "I don't deserve anything they've done for me" "It's all my fault". It was as if all the insecurities he had about Cas and Dean were knocked loose from their cages by the blow to his head and were now free to roam around his mind.

Dave smiled when he say the uncertainty in Sam's eyes. He gripped Sam's chin and forced the younger man to look up and meet his steady gaze. "I'm sorry, Sam. I don't want to hit you. You just have to understand what I'm saying here."

"No, I know," Sam nodded, sucking on his bottom lip, uncertain. "I guess...I guess maybe I could just let them go by themselves. I guess they could use some time without me tagging along."

"I think you're right, baby," Dave pressed his lips to Sam's and pulled him in for a hug. "Let me get you some ice. Call your brother and let him know you're not going."

"Alright," Sam agreed, not sure what had just happened, or why he was doing this. Dave dug Sam's cell phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and handed it to him, pressing it into his hand gently.

"Go ahead, baby," Dave said, leaning forward to kiss Sam's temple.

Sam dialed Dean's number and listened to the phone ring, praying Dean wouldn't pick up and he could just leave a message.

* * *

"How cold do you think it'll be?" Dean asked, looking up from his duffel bag at Cas, who hadn't moved from where he was sitting cross-legged on Sam's bed. He was picking at his thick wool socks and staring despondently at his fingers. "Cas."

Cas blinked and looked around wildly, as if he was confused to find himself in his own apartment. "What?"

"Do you want me to pack you a winter jacket or not?" Dean asked, observing his friend closely. "It might get cold."

"Yes," Cas agreed before his eyes went blank and far away again. Dean sighed and stuffed the thick jacket into the duffle. Cas detached when he was upset or scared, and Dean had learned that it was best to wait it out.

Dean felt his phone vibrate against his leg and dug it out of his pocket.

The screen flashed "SAM" so he flipped it open and pressed it to his ear, cradling it there with his shoulder so he could continue packing. "Hey, Sam. Are you on your way home? We leave in three hours."

"I...actually, Dean, I'm not going," Sam said quickly. "I have to stay here. I have classes and loads of work to keep up with and I can't take time off now."

"Sam, his sister just died," Dean growled, dropping the socks he was pairing up and taking the phone in his hand to hold it to his ear. "He needs us right now."

"He doesn't need both of us," Sam snapped, irritation seeping into his hoarse voice. "You two will be fine. I'll stay here by myself. It's not a big deal, Dean."

"Like hell it's not a big deal!" Dean exclaimed, slamming his hand on the dresser angrily. Cas jumped and curled up into a tighter ball, blinking excessively. He started shaking and Dean cursed softly when he realized Cas was trying not to cry. "Sam, he's a mess. You can miss two days of class."

"Don't tell me what I can do, Dean," Sam said sharply. "I want to stay here. I don't want to go all the way out to Kansas for the funeral of some girl I barely knew."

"What the hell is wrong with you, Sam?!" Dean bellowed, not caring if the neighbors heard, but slightly concerned by Cas's reaction. He had scooted up against the wall at Dean's raised voice and buried his face in his trembling hands. "He's your best friend and he needs you! He won't talk, he's been staring at a wall all afternoon, and damn it, now he's crying! He's fucking terrified to go back to that hellhole! Do you even care?"

"I'm not going, Dean," Sam said stoically after a long pause. "I'll be home later."

Sam hung up without another word.

"Screw you, Sam!" Dean yelled into the disconnected phone line. "Damn it..."

He threw the phone onto his bed and sighed, rubbing his hands over his face exasperatedly. He returned his attention to Cas. Cas was still pressing himself against the wall and hiding his face in his hands. Dean could see the tears dripping from between his fingers and landing on Sam's worn bedspread.

Dean sighed and moved towards Cas, sitting on the edge of the bed and tugging the smaller man into his arms the way he held Sam after a nightmare. Cas resisted at first, then seemed to realize it was Dean and immediately latched on to the front of his shirt and cried into the shoulder of Dean's jacket. His whole body was shaking and his fingers could barely get a grip on the fabric of Dean's shirt.

Dean hugged Cas close and shut his eyes tightly, feeling a sting in the corner of his eyelids. He had never seen Cas cry like this, and it scared him a little bit. Cas gripped at Dean's shirt desperately, digging his fingers into the fabric. "Damn it, Sam."

Cas whimpered and pressed his face against Dean's shoulder, and Dean stroked his hair, wishing he could do something to make this better for Cas. Cas didn't handle emotional upheavals the way most people did. He hadn't been taught how to handle emotions when he was younger, so he either bottled them all up or lashed out. He went back and forth from not talking or reacting to anything around him to almost childishly wanting touch, craving comfort and safety from someone he trusted.

"It's alright, Cas," Dean said softly, rubbing Cas's back soothingly. "She's in heaven now, right?" Dean wasn't sure he bought that crap, but if it made Cas feel better, he'd talk about it all Cas wanted. "She's not in pain or anything. God's taking care of her up there."

Cas sniffled and nodded against Dean's chest. "He could have taken care of her just as well when she was here."

"I don't know, Cas," Dean sighed, tightening his arms around Castiel's shuddering body. "Here kind of sucks."

* * *

"Here," Dean shoved a bowl of warmed soup into Cas's hands and eyed Cas cautiously. He'd stopped crying, but his eyes were still blurry and he was sniffling every once in a while. He wasn't looking at Dean. but his gaze was no longer scarily blank and distant. He made no move to eat. "Cas, c'mon. Just eat a little bit. Did you eat lunch?"

Cas shook his head slowly.

"And you haven't eaten dinner," Dean pointed out. "I know you're not hungry, but you have to eat. I don't want you passing out while I'm driving. If you hit your head and get blood on my seat I'll never forgive you."

Cas managed a dry, strained smile and stirred the broth with his spoon.

Dean returned to packing their bag, but watched Cas out of the corner of his eye. Cas chewed on his bottom lip and considered the soup as if the answers to the universe were written on the bottom of the bowl. After a few moments, he spooned some broth into his mouth.

"When will Sam be home?" Cas spoke up, breaking the companionable silence.

Dean's shoulders tensed and he closed his eyes briefly. He was sort of hoping Cas would remember the phone conversation, so he wouldn't have to break the news. Cas must have complete phased out. "Uh, he'll be home soon. But, uh...he's not coming down to Kansas."

"What?" Cas asked, his eyebrows drawing together. He didn't sound upset, just confused, like he thought he hadn't heard Dean right.

"Sam's not coming to the funeral," Dean repeated sharply, not turning to look at Cas. He couldn't handle seeing Cas's expression crumple when he understood what Dean was saying. "He doesn't want to miss his classes. He's staying here."

"Oh," Cas said softly. "Okay."

Dean wasn't surprised at the lack of reaction, but it nonetheless sent a pain through his chest.

"We can leave whenever you're ready," Dean said, hefting the packed bag onto his shoulder and turning to Cas. The bowl of soup was on his lap, and Dean was pleased to see that Cas had managed to eat some of it, at least.

"I...yeah, we can go," Cas nodded, rising to his feet unsteadily. He placed the bowl on the bedside table and faltered suddenly, the room spinning. He gripped the bed frame until the dizzy spell passed and took a few deep breaths. "Okay. I'm okay."

"Don't forget your laptop," Dean reminded him gruffly.

Cas nodded and turned around in circles a few times, unsure of where he'd left the case. Everything between Peter's phone call and crying in Dean's arms was a blur. He caught sight of the bag on the living room couch and retrieved it, having the mind to check that the charger was stuck in the front pocket. He was missing class for the first half of the week, and he had to have some way to keep up with his schoolwork.

He followed Dean out of the apartment, locking the door behind them, and trailed after him down the stairs. He stood to the side as Dean hefted the duffle bag into the Impala and handed Dean his computer bag so Dean could put it in the back as well.

He glanced up at the sound of a car pulling into the small parking lot and recognized it as Dave Green's black Mercedes. He froze and found that he couldn't bring himself to look away.

Dave jumped out of the car and went to pull Sam's door open before Sam got out. Sam climbed out of the car and smiled at Dave.

Dave grinned down at him and pecked Sam's lips lightly, brushing his fingers over Sam's cheek gently.

Cas flinched, and the small movement caught Dave's attention. He saw Cas watching, grinned more widely, and kissed Sam again. Cas set his jaw and gritted his teeth. Dave pressed Sam against the car and slid his hands down Sam's back, deepening the kiss.

Dean cursed under his breath and slammed the car door closed. The noise startled Sam and he pressed his hands against Dave's chest to push him away. He saw Dean and Cas watching him from the Impala and his heart sank.

Dean was obviously at the end of his rope, tired and overwhelmed. He was still in his clothes from the shop; grease stained jeans and a dirty t-shirt under his canvas jacket. Sam had heard Cas crying on the other end of the phone and realized Dean would have had to try to comfort him, and that was a little too touchy feely for Dean to be comfortable with. Cas looked away when Sam tried to make eye contact and crossed his arms over his chest protectively. He looked incredibly small and vulnerable standing in the dim glow of the streetlight wearing a sweater that fell loosely to halfway down his thighs and worn dark jeans. He scuffed his battered boots on the cracked pavement, shifting his weight nervously. He was pale and the red rims around his sharp blue eyes were pronounced and obvious. Sam's heart clenched when he looked at him, guilt curling through his chest and twining tightly around his stomach.

"Last chance, Sam," Dean called, gripping Cas's arm to push him into the passenger's seat. Cas didn't fight it and obligingly collapsed into the car, rubbing the sleeve of his sweater over his eyes. "You still have time to pack a bag."

Sam hesitated for a moment. He winced when he felt Dave's hand tighten painfully around his wrist. "I...no. I can't, Dean. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Cas."

"Don't talk to him," Dean snapped at Sam, slamming Cas's door shut. "You've said enough, Sam."

"Dean, you don't understand," Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "I have a life, a partner, a future career to prepare for. I can't just up and go."

"What are you saying?" Dean asked lowly, his tone dangerous and challenging. "That I'm less important because I don't have that stuff?"

"Well, you don't," Sam raised his eyebrows. "You can take a day off at the shop, it's not like the place will shut down without you there, it's not like it will affect your future. And I'm sure your girlfriends will be fine without you for three days."

"Maybe I don't have a girlfriend, or a 'life', or a career to prepare for because I've been so busy taking care of you," Dean said harshly, striding around to the driver's side and yanking the door open. He ignored the barb in his chest that Sam's harsh words left. "You and Cas are my life, Sam, in case you haven't noticed." He paused and shook his head, running a hand through his short hair. He added softly, "Have a great fucking time with your 'friends' and your boyfriend and see if I care."

He pulled the door shut, hard, and turned the car on, determinedly ignoring Sam's dark eyes on him. He gunned it out of the parking lot, his jaw set as he said something to Cas that made the dark haired man lift his head from his hands and shoot Dean a disapproving look.

Sam stared after the car, feeling a lump forming in the back of his throat.

He felt Dave's arms wrap around his waist and pull him close to press his back against Dave's chest. Dave kissed the top of his head and rubbed Sam's arms soothingly. He moved his lips to the blossoming bruise on Sam's cheek and smiled against Sam's damaged skin when he felt Sam turn into him and clutch desperately at his jacket as his brother and the freak put more and more distance between them.

* * *

**So there it is! I hope you liked it:)**

**Leave a review if you've got a minute, I really appreciate them. Let me know what you think of it so far.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**Thanks to everyone who favorited, followed, and ESPECIALLY REVIEWED! You people made my week. I appreciate it!**

**CHAPTER WARNINGS: language, slash, homophobia, child abuse (physical and sexual), and implied sex**

**I think that's it. **

* * *

"Ready, Cas?" Dean pursed his lips and eyed the front door of the Novak's small, ramshackle home. There was already a hoard of cars parked out front on the lawn and Dean could hear voices floating out through the thin walls and the gaps in the insulation.

Cas held his bag tightly to his chest and cleared his throat. His eyes flickered up to the front door and he recalled the last time he'd gone through; he'd been dragged by his hair outside and left there as punishment. He tried to push back the memories vying for his attention in the front of his mind. "I suppose."

"Hey," Dean gripped his shoulder and grinned reassuringly. He could hear Cas's breathing shorten slightly and saw his grip on his back tighten. "I'm here, aren't I? Like I'd let any of them touch you."

Cas's lips twitched into a small smile. He knew Dean was trying hard to make him feel better, and it meant the world to Cas. He scrubbed his hand over his mouth and began, "Dean, I know I've been weak, lately, and I know you're not...I know it's hard...I'm sorry."

"Don't be stupid, Cas," Dean snorted, punching Cas's upper arm lightly. "So you're a little out of it. You have a right to be; you just lost someone you love."

"The last thing I told her was that it was her fault," Cas said softly as he and Dean made their way to the front porch. He could feel Dean's gaze on him, observing him closely. He kept his gaze locked on the frozen grass. "That it was her fault I was leaving. And it wasn't...not really, anyway."

Dean sucked in a lungful of the chilly air and moved so Cas could go up the porch steps first. He didn't know what to say, and he had the feeling Cas just needed to get it out anyway; he wasn't looking for absolution. Dean couldn't give it to him.

"Stick with me while we're here, alright?" Dean demanded more than asked, reaching up to knock on the rough wood door.

"I can take care of myself," Cas replied testily, clutching the strap of his laptop case tightly. His knuckles turned white as his finger wrapped around the heavy cloth. "I lived with them for my whole life."

"And you've obviously come out completely undamaged," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes and knocking sharply. He glanced over at Cas and said seriously, "Just humor me, okay?"

"I don't see why this is funny," Cas said simply.

Dean rolled his eyes, biting back a small smile, and rapped sharply on the door three times with his knuckles.

The door was flung open and Dean stepped back reflexively, pushing Cas behind him.

"Cas?"

Balthazar had been the one to open the door, and Dean found that he was incredibly grateful for that. He was the least daunting of Cas's siblings, and that in itself said a lot about the rest of Cas's family. He smiled at Cas and pulled him in for a hug. Cas stiffened and awkwardly returned the embrace before pulling away and moving to stand next to Dean again, crossing his arms over his chest and smiling nervously.

"Balthazar," Cas greeted his brother with a small, restrained smile. "It is...it is good to see you."

"You, too," Balthazar replied honestly. He gave Cas a quick once over and smiled complacently. Cas looked good, he looked healthy, if not a little sad. He was always a smaller kid, but he'd filled out pretty well and grown into his body. He was wearing a sweater that used to be Gabriel's and jeans that must have been his, because they fit him well. His dark hair was a ruffled mess, and Balthazar smiled when he thought of the mornings Cas had spent so much time trying to get it to look neat, to no avail. Cas had always been different from the rest of them, but so undeniably the same. He was dysfunctional and broken (to an extent Balthazar didn't think he knew the whole story to, though he had his suspicions) just like the rest of them were. Unlike the rest of the family, however, Cas had found people who could fix him.

Cas grinned at him and the uncertainty and fear that seemed to have plagued Cas when he was a teenager wasn't anywhere in his expression. Balthazar rubbed his nose and bit back a pleased smile. "You look great, Cas."

Cas laughed a little and ducked his head.

"Can we come in?" Dean spoke up, hating to break up their reunion but aching to get a few hours of sleep in a bed before the funeral. His neck and back hurt from being crammed in the car for so long, and the weight of the duffel bag seemed to increase more every second. "Thirty hour drive, kind of tired."

"Charming as ever, Dean," Rachel commented snidely as she strolled by on her way to the kitchen.

"Great, she's here," Dean muttered, hefting the duffle bag up on his shoulder and pushing past Balthazar into the hallway. Cas followed, pulling the door shut behind him. "Where are we staying?"

"You can have the couch if you want it and Cas can sleep in his old bed," Balthazar offered. He paused when he saw the murderous glare Dean had fixed on him and reconsidered, amused and intrigued by the violent reaction. "Or you could sleep on the floor. We've got an air mattress. It'll fit next to Cas's bed if you'd rather do that."

"I would," Dean replied. "Cas, I'm gonna catch a few hours of sleep."

"I think I will, too," Cas said slowly, glancing around the house. He could hear voices in the bedrooms and the living room, but he really didn't feel like talking with any of his family members. He'd rather just lie in bed for a few hours, even if sleep couldn't come to him.

Balthazar shrugged and wiggled his eyebrows at Cas. "I'll get the air mattress, though it seems like you may not need it."

"Balthazar," Cas chastised him wearily, his heart not into it at all. He'd pretty much given up telling people he and Dean weren't dating. If that's what people saw, then that's what they saw. Cas was too tired to care. "Just get the mattress."

"Whatever you want, princess," Balthazar winked and disappeared down the hallway towards the storage closet.

Cas sagged against the wall and sighed.

This was going to be a long two days.

* * *

"So, uh, this is the bedroom," Sam motioned to the small room and hovered in the doorway. "As you can see, there are three beds."

"Pretty crammed in here," Dave commented, his eyes flickering between the beds. He ignored Sam's barb about the separate beds, instead asking, "Is that one yours?"

He pointed to the one on the wall next to the door. There were law books and notebooks and papers piled on the dark sheets, and Dave could see the indent in the mattress Sam's body had carved over the years.

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "It's kind of a mess right now." he laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "The whole place is kind of a mess right now."

Dave shrugged and looked at the other two beds. The one on the opposite wall must have been Sam's brother's; it was unmade and t-shirts and torn magazines were tossed onto the crumpled bedspread. The one on the wall near the bathroom was Cas's, then. The flannel sheets were ruffled, but it was neater than the rest of the room, and there were thick, leather-bound tomes piled up next to the headboard. Cas had a small golden cross hanging on his bed frame and a picture of his younger self with Sam and Dean tacked up on the wall next to a copy of the Lord's prayer.

"So, uh, we can hang out in the living room, if you want," Sam offered, catching Dave's attention and drawing in away from Cas's corner of the room.

He turned to Sam and smiled warmly, moving to grip Sam's hips as best he could while he held a paper bag in one of his fists. "I'd like that."

Sam smiled and kissed him quickly before turning and heading towards the couch. Dave sighed and tightened his grip on the bag in his hands. He took a deep breath; tonight was the night. They'd been together for almost two months, and Dave was ready to seal the deal. Sam was shy, he got that; the kid had never slept with anyone before. But he couldn't stay pure forever, and Dave had been holding on long enough. He wanted to be the one to take Sam's innocence, he wanted to be the one Sam thought back on thirty years from now as the man who had claimed him first.

He joined Sam on the couch and Sam leaned against him, resting his head on Dave's shoulder. Dave could tell Sam was tired. He was understandably upset by what had happened with his brother and Cas. He was vulnerable, and Dave wasn't going to let this chance get by.

"What's with the bag?" Sam yawned , pawing at the paper bag on Dave's lap.

Dave unrolled the top and pulled out a beer. Sam immediately lost interest and looked away. "You've never had a drink, Sam?"

"No," Sam said truthfully. Dave felt something in his stomach squirm. God, the kid was so fucking pure. He was begging to be tainted, just a little bit. "My dad...he used to drink."

"Try it," Dave popped the top off with his lighter and offered the bottle to Sam. "One won't hurt you, babe. You're an adult now, you can handle it. Can't you?"

Sam sat up and pursed his lips, hesitant.

"It's just me, Sam," Dave smiled reassuringly. "What's the worst that could happen?"

* * *

Cas felt someone standing behind him as he tried to make himself and Dean sandwiches in the kitchen, and sighed, turning around to face Hester.

"Hey, Cas," Hester grinned and stood up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

"Hi, Hester," Cas relaxed marginally when he saw his sixteen year old sister standing there. Hester was a sweetheart, and Michael had a soft spot for her. She would probably get out of that house the least damaged of all of them. "How are you?"

"A little bored since you left," Hester admitted, plopping down in a chair at the kitchen table. "No one around here is any fun, Cas. They all talk to me like I'm five."

"They're trying," Cas raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "You leave in two years anyway. Have you thought about school?"

"Michael said he'd pay to put me through Holyoke," Hester nodded, pushing her hair out of her face. "Hey, is Dean around?"

"Ooooh, someone's got a little crush," Joshua teased Hester as he wandered by. She smacked his arm and he punched her bicep, hard.

"Ouch!" Hester yelped. "Joshua, cut it out!"

"What?" Joshua blinked innocently. "You started it."

"Friggin' five year olds," Raphael snarled as he shoved by them to dig through the old ice box. "Michael's going to be home soon. Have you both done your chores?"

Hester nodded and Joshua rolled his eyes before leaving the kitchen to do whatever it was Michael had assigned him. Cas returned to making sandwiches, effectively blocking out the voices of his arguing siblings. Even after being gone for three years, it was a skill that hadn't faded.

He was jolted from his peace when Inias slammed into his leg and almost sent him toppling to the floor. He managed to regain his balance and wrapped an arm around Inias's neck in a one armed hug. "Hi, Inias."

"Hi, Cas," Inias replied quietly, burying his face in Cas's hip and clinging to Cas's jeans. His small fingers dug into Cas's thigh through the worn denim. "You're home."

"Yeah," Cas rubbed Inias's long blonde hair soothingly, running his fingers through the fine strands. He swallowed hard and tugged his bottom lip under his teeth. Inias was the one reason he regretted leaving home. He'd been in that stage where all he wanted to do was follow Cas around all the time around the time Cas had left home. The kid had idolized him, and Cas had been too afraid of Michael to come home to say goodbye. "How are you, Inias?"

Inias regarded him with serious brown eyes and considered Cas a moment before responding. "Sad. Everyone is mad at each other."

Cas smile bitterly and raised an eyebrow. "They're usually that way, aren't they?"

Inias nodded and rubbed his eyes with balled up fists. "Are you staying this time?"

"No," Cas replied, determinedly ignoring the knife in his chest the single word left behind. "I have to go back to California. That's where I attend school now."

"Oh," Inias looked a little disappointed, but perked up when he caught sight of the sandwiches on the counter. Cas smiled softly and handed him one. Inias smiled up at him, sticking his tongue through the gap in his teeth, and trotted away, clutching the sandwich tightly in his small hands.

Cas considered making another sandwich for a moment, but decided against it. He wasn't hungry. Dean had practically shoved food down his throat every time they stopped while they were driving. He set the plate on top of a package of beef in the icebox so Dean could have it when he got out of the shower.

He hovered nervously in the living room door for a few moments, unsure of where he wanted to go. He felt extremely out of place and uncomfortable. He'd thought he'd left this place behind for good. He'd never imagined he'd have to come back again. Michael would probably have a fit when he got home and found out Cas was there.

"Stop hovering, Cas," Uriel said shortly, his deep voice startling Cas when he suddenly spoke up. He was sitting on the couch, flipping through a folder of papers propped open on his thighs. "It's irritating."

Cas curled his lip distastefully at him. "I don't have to answer to you, Uriel."

Uriel snorted derisively and didn't bother looking up from his work.

"Where are Michael and Gabriel?" Cas asked after a few moments. Balthazar had mentioned that Zachariah would be there just in time for the funeral and that Virgil and Gabriel were in town buying food for the next few days, but he hadn't heard any news about Michael or Gabriel.

"Michael will be home soon," Uriel replied distractedly, rubbing his chin and squinting at the small numbers in one of the columns on his papers. "Lucifer...who knows. I'm not sure if he's coming or not." he paused for a moment. "I hope he doesn't. The last thing this funeral needs is one of he and Michael's arguments. It'll already be bad enough with Dean and Michael and Gabriel."

Cas pressed his lips together into a thin line. He couldn't disagree; Michael and Virgil were Dean's least favorite of Cas's brothers. Cas had a feeling Dean had suspicions about Virgil and what he'd done to Cas, though he didn't know how Dean had caught on.

"Cas, what's up?" Dean came into the living room dressed in fresh clothes and toweling off his damp hair. He glared at Uriel suspiciously before his eyes flickered back to Cas.

"I left you a sandwich in the icebox," Cas said, moving to take a seat in the tattered arm chair across the room from Uriel, not that his brother noticed. He was too wrapped up in the figures on his paper, the way he'd always been too wrapped up in his homework when he was in high school to acknowledge Cas's audible whimpers of fear from where Michael had locked him in the hall closet.

Dean returned to the living room, tossing his towel onto the kitchen counter and plopping onto the couch next to Cas's chair with his sandwich. "You good, Cas?"

Uriel snorted from his place across the room.

Cas stood up quickly and started out of the living room. "I'm going to take a shower."

"C'mon, Cas," Dean protested, half standing up. "He's just being-"

"I just want to shower, Dean," Cas snapped, whirling around to glare at Dean, cutting off his protest. "Or are you afraid I'll get hurt in there?"

Dean's eyes darkened and he sank back into his seat.

Cas opened his mouth like he was going to apologize, looking penitent, but shook his head and pressed his lips together before turning and disappearing down the hallway.

* * *

"Sam," Dave gasped Sam's name against the younger man's lips and pressed insistently against Sam's body. Sam kissed him deeply, pulling at Dave's collar to bring Dave's face closer to his. Dave moved his mouth to Sam's neck, working to leave dark, territorial marks that Sam would still have when his brother and Cas got home. Sam's fingers dug into Dave's biceps and he tilted his head to expose more of his throat.

When Sam was sufficiently distracted, Dave moved his hands to the button of Sam's jeans. Sam froze and batted Dave's hands away lightly. "Dave, wait..."

Sam's voice was slurred and his movements were sluggish. He was definitely drunk, and Dave wasn't surprised; he'd talked the kid into three beers. Dave nuzzled his nose against Sam's neck. "I want to show you how much I love you."

"Love me?" Sam blinked slowly, shock registering on his features. "You do?"

Dave nodded and kissed him slowly. He felt Sam's body melt against his. "I love you."

"No one's told me that since I was little," Sam mumbled, smiling lazily. He laughed. "I...Dave...I love you, too. Don't tell Dean and Cas I told you that..."

"I won't, babe," Dave promised. He moved his hands to the waistband of Sam's jeans again. He could see Sam hesitate as he tried to make sense of what was going on in his jumbled, impaired mind. "Sam, relax. Let me take care of you. Just relax."

"Will it...it hurts, doesn't it?" Sam asked quietly, sounding suddenly very vulnerable.

"For a second," Dave kissed Sam's forehead and left his lips there, so he was speaking against Sam's skin. "I promise you, Sam, it's good. I'll be careful. Please."

Sam shook his head to try to clear his thoughts, but it just made him dizzy. He felt weird, and really tired, and he couldn't move his limbs properly. His body was warm and humming and he felt like his skin was burning and freezing at the same time. He shivered when Dave's skin brushed his, and he was torn between saying yes and being terrified of taking that step.

"I dunno, Dave," Sam tried to form the words with lips that refused to move correctly. "I'm not sure if..."

"Please," Dave breathed against Sam's neck, rubbing circles with his thumb on Sam's hip, dipping his finger below Sam's jeans to stroke his skin. "Please, Sam. I love you. I love you..."

Sam twitched a little as Dave's thumb slid along his hipbone. A low moan escaped his lips and he pressed his forehead against Dave's collarbone. He closed his eyes and softly breathed, "Okay."

* * *

Cas let the warm water coming in spurts from the showerhead run down his body as he stood under the spray with his forehead pressed against the cracked tile wall. His body ached from being crammed in the car for so long and the lukewarm water felt good against his ice cold skin. It was quiet and peaceful and Cas honestly just never wanted to get out. He didn't want to watch his baby sister be buried, see him family fight, go back to school and work himself to death trying to graduate, and stand by while the love of his life dated another man. He didn't want to deal with anything, ever again, he just wanted to stand under the crappy showerhead with sketchy water pressure in the small tub for the rest of his life.

There was a knock on the door and Gabriel's voice called through the thin wood, "Cas, hurry up. You're not the only one who lives here, princess."

Cas sighed irritably and turned off the water. He resented anyone but Balthazar calling him 'princess'. Balthazar was joking with him; the rest of them were mocking him.

Cas toweled himself off in the tub and stepped out with it draped around his shoulder to keep away the chill of the air for as long as possible.

"Still taking long showers?"

Cas jumped when he heard Virgil's voice coming from the corner of the bathroom and pulled the towel to cover himself.

"There's nothing wrong with being a little dirty, Cas," Virgil grinned and stood up from the small stool by the sink. Cas backed up against the door as Virgil moved closer. "But I know you know that."

"That's sick," Cas spat, huddling against the door, clutching the towel tightly to himself. If he hadn't been panicked out of his mind, he would have taken time to ridicule his brother for the cliché. "Get out of here, Virgil."

"Go away for a couple years and now you come back here thinking you're God?" Virgil grinned predatorily at him and leaned over the smaller man, resting his hand on the wood of the door, inches from Cas's head. "You've grown up, Cas, but you're no better than you were before you left here."

"I don't need to be," Cas snapped, his eyes flickering from Virgil's hands to his face to his body, watching for him to make a move and getting ready to run for it. "I'm not a bad person. I never was."

"All people are bad, Cas," Virgil grinned darkly at Cas and moved closer, so his lips were brushing Cas's ear. "Some people are just better at hiding it."

"Cas!"

Cas had never been so grateful to hear Dean's voice in his life. He wiggled away from Virgil's hand, which had begun to trail down his chest, and pushed the door behind him open, sending them both tumbling into the hallway.

Dean was surprised when the door opened and barely had time to step back before Cas and Virgil fell into the narrow hall. Dean managed to grab Cas's arm and catch him before he could hit the ground. Virgil wasn't so lucky, and fell flat on his face on the wood floor.

Cas couldn't find it in himself to be sorry.

"You brought this one with you?" Virgil rolled over and pushed himself up on his elbows. He eyed Dean disgustedly. "I always thought you had a thing for the tall one. Unless you're sleeping with both of them?"

Cas pulled away from Dean and glared at his brother harshly.

"Oh, right," Virgil rolled his eyes and pulled himself to his feet. "Mr. Monogamy. Admirable of you. But you're probably missing out, both of them are pretty hot, and both of them are pretty into you, Cas. I'd capitalize on that in a second."

"I'm not into him," Dean growled. He looked over at Cas and added, "No offense. Not my type. No breasts."

Cas twitched his eyebrows in agreement. He was holding the towel around himself tightly, trying to hide as much of himself as possible. Dean could see the long, pale scars that decorated Cas's skin in the harsh light of the small hallway. They cut across his back and chest and sides, and wrapped around his arms and legs. Dean knew there were more on the soles of his feet and the palms of his hands. A belt had been Michael's punishment of choice, and he hit Cas hard enough to leave open wounds that scarred.

"Cute," Virgil sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Good thing you brought your guard dog, Cas. No telling how pissed Michael will be."

"Virgil."

Virgil froze and turned around to face the source of the voice. Michael was standing at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, a stern expression on his face. "Michael..."

Michael jerked his chin in the direction of the living room and Virgil complied at once, shooting a murderous look back at Cas before disappearing around the corner.

Cas moved closer to Dean and wished desperately that he was dressed, and not facing down his strict, homophobic brother in nothing but a tattered towel.

"Cas," Michael said matter of factly. "You decided to come."

"Yes," Cas replied at the same time Dean snapped, "He's here, isn't he?"

Michael ignored Dean and spoke to Cas, his voice and expression devoid of any emotion. "You can stay the night, but I want you gone in the morning. I don't want the younger ones around you."

"You believe I'll infect them?" Cas challenged Michael softly.

Michael glanced towards the living room. "How do you think you got to be the way you are. Cas? Because if you tell me the things you imagined Virgil did to you didn't make you this way, I won't believe you."

"I know he did them to me," Cas replied firmly. "You made me think I didn't, you made me feel so ashamed of myself...it wasn't my fault. None of it."

"You should be ashamed," Michael snapped, anger flashing through his eyes. "You're going to hell. You're damned, Cas, and you're doing nothing to stop it."

"I'm not going to hell," Cas shook his head. Dean could see he was shaking, and was silently amazed that Cas was finally standing up to his brother. "I have done nothing wrong. I fell in love."

"Don't you dare," Michael said lowly, warningly. His expression was dark and dangerous, and it made Dean want to push Cas behind him to protect him, but he knew Cas would kill him if he did. Cas needed the chance to speak up against Michael, to not let his brother rule over him anymore.

"What are you going to do?" Cas demanded, hitching up the towel around his waist. "Beat me? I'm not a kid anymore, Michael. You don't own me, and you can't treat me that way."

"I am your brother," Michael growled, moving quickly down the hall so he was standing face to face with Cas, lording over him and glaring harshly down at the smaller man. "The Winchester kid will not stop me from punishing you if I see fit. You can't come waltzing in and expect me to treat you like you deserve forgiveness. You left. You made your choice."

"I left because you beat me half to death!" Cas yelled, and Dean took a step towards him. Cas didn't yell. Dean had heard him yell maybe three times in his life, and it was always right before Cas lost it and got violent. "You left me to bleed to death on the living room floor. All of you did!"

"You're a plague!" Michael shouted back, crowding Cas against the wall. "The world would be a better place with you gone, you sick, disturbed whore!"

He raised a hand to strike Cas across the face. Dean moved to stop him, but needn't have worried.

Cas caught Michael's wrist before he could bring his hand down and forced Michael's hand back down. He shook his head, chest heaving, and growled lowly, "Never again, Michael. Never again."

* * *

"Dean-!" Cas yelped when Dean yanked him out the front door and down the porch steps. He stumbled after Dean as the bigger man pulled him deeper into the back yard. "What are you-?"

"What did you mean when you said what Virgil did to you?" Dean demanded, stopping and whirling around. He gripped Cas's elbows tightly and met his eyes steadily, his gaze angry and intense. Cas shook his head and looked away, unable to speak. "C'mon, Cas, talk to me."

"He just...I don't really remember a lot," Cas cleared his throat and swallowed hard. "I think I just...I just repressed most of it." Cas ran his hands through his hair and broke away from Dean. He turned to face the dark, bleak forest, his bright eyes peering at the tangled limbs. "He, uh...he used to come into my room at night and put his hand over my mouth. He...I remember him touching me, I remember he made me touch him..."

"I'll kill the fucking sonofabitch," Dean growled, his hands balling into fists. He'd always had the feeling Virgil had done something to Cas that had hurt the younger boy. He remembered when they were in high school and Cas had almost had a panic attack whenever someone touched his skin directly. Dean had known Michael hit him, but it seemed like whatever Cas was afraid of was more than just his oldest brother. He had avoided his house more than usual when Virgil was home, been horribly reluctant to leave the Winchester's house when Virgil was around, and it had set off alarms in Dean's head; Dean hadn't known what to do. He hadn't known how to ask Cas if it was happening; he'd been terrified of the answer.

"No, Dean, stop," Cas reached out and gripped Dean's wrist tightly, stopping Dean from storming back into the house. "Don't say anything to anyone about it. It's over now. You'll just upset Michael."

"Michael should have done something about it!" Dean snapped. Cas kept a cautious grip on Dean's arm in case Dean decided to bolt and burst into the house, guns blazing. "He obviously knew!"

"He didn't believe me," Cas shook his head and scrubbed his mouth with his hand. "I told him. When I was fourteen, I told him what Virgil was doing. He told me to stop making things up for attention. That I was sick to think like that. He locked me outside in the doghouse for the night."

Dean's lip curled at the mention of the doghouse. "That's sick, Cas. That's wrong."

"I know," Cas rubbed his eyes and hunched his shoulders, crossing his arms against the cold air. "I thought I was going to die out there. That was the time you found me out there, remember?"

* * *

_"Michael?" Castiel hovered in the doorway to Michael's room, tugging nervously at the hem of his sweater. Michael was hunched over his desk, making notes in the margin of his well worn Bible. He glanced up when he saw Castiel and waved him in._

_Castiel shut the door behind him. Michael heard the door close and looked up, his interest piqued. "What is it, Castiel?"_

_"I have to tell you something," Castiel said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He sounded like he was about to cry. "Promise you won't be mad."_

_Michael narrowed his eyes at Castiel suspiciously. Castiel hadn't spoken so informally since he was very young. "What's wrong?"_

_"Virgil..." Castiel began hesitantly, his voice catching and breaking. "He, uh, he...he comes into my room at night."_

_"And?" Michael raised an eyebrow. He didn't have time for any of Castiel's sensitivity today. If Virgil was wandering the house at night, Cas would have to get over it. Michael couldn't help it if Castiel was a light sleeper._

_Castiel dropped his gaze to the floor and wrung his hands. "He...he touches me."_

_"I don't understand," Michael replied blankly._

_"He, umm, like..." Castiel blushed and glanced down at his crotch before looking back up. "Touches me in a way a brother shouldn't."_

_Michael stood up, his Bible lying forgotten on the desk. "I think I misunderstand, Castiel."_

_"Please, make him stop," Cas's voice cracked and he ducked his head to hide his tears. "I don't like it."_

_"Then why are you imagining it, Castiel?" Michael demanded. "If you don't like it, then why is your sick brain coming up with fantasies about your brother?"_

_"I'm not imagining it," Castiel looked up, surprised. "He does does do it. I know he does."_

_"This is your brother you're talking about, Castiel," Michael said sharply. "It's wrong of you to think of him that way. Don't speak of this again."_

_"He's hurting me," Castiel insisted desperately, confused. He just wanted Michael to make Virgil stop. All it would take was one word from Michael to scare Virgil into leaving Castiel alone. "I just want him to leave me alone. He's molest-"_

_Castiel was cut off when Michael hit him across the face, hard. He stumbled to the side from the force of the blow, and would have fallen if Michael hadn't caught him by his collar and yanked him back up. "Michael-!"_

_"Keep your mouth shut, Castiel," Michael commanded, digging his fingers into the back of Castiel's neck hard enough to leave bruises. "I don't want to hear another word."_

_Castiel whimpered as Michael yanked him from the room and dragged him down the hallway towards the front door. Michael slammed him against the door frame, hard. "Stand right here."_

_Michael disappeared into Balthazar's room to find a belt. He grabbed Balthazar's thin leather belt from his bed frame and returned to the hallway. Castiel was still cowering against the doorframe, clutching his ribs. He knew better than to try and run._

_Michael grabbed the front of his shirt and shoved Castiel through the front door._

_Castiel saw where they were going and balked, digging his heels into the ground. "Michael, no, please, I'm sorry..."_

_"You should be ashamed, Castiel," Michael forced Castiel to his knees next to the small, ramshackle wooden doghouse. Their dog had died at age 13 years ago. Since then, his doghouse served a different purpose. "You should hate yourself for thinking like that."_

_"I'm sorry, please, please, Michael..." Castiel begged softly, covering his head with his hands. He didn't fight as Michael peeled off Castiel's sweater and t-shirt._

_"Did you make this up for my attention, Castiel?" Michael folded the belt in half in his right hand._

_"No!" Cas insisted. "I promise, I didn't, I wouldn't..."_

_Michael brought the belt down across Cas's back. It cut into his skin with the sound of a dull crack. Castiel flinched and curled forward, digging his fingers into the frozen ground. Michael brought the belt down again on Cas's exposed back._

_"Did you make this up for my attention?" Michael asked again. His hand was yanking at Cas's hair to keep the younger boy in place. "Yes or no, Castiel?"_

_"No," Cas breathed, tears coursing down his cheeks. "He did it, he touched me, I know it was real..."_

_Michael hit him again. And again. And again and again and again. He brought the belt down on Castiel's vulnerable, shaking body until Cas's arms were too weak to hold himself up and he collapsed face first into the dirt. Michael's hand pulled roughly at his hair and forced him to hold himself up again._

_He beat Castiel until he was bleeding and crying and begging Michael to stop, gasping that yes, he was lying, he just wanted Michael's attention, that he made it up._

_Michael dropped the belt and took a few deep breaths, chest heaving with exertion. He looked down at Cas, disgust written on his features as he took in Cas's beaten, shaking body. "Pray, Castiel. Maybe God can forgive you."_

_Michael picked up the dirty dog collar attached to the chain on the doghouse. He secured it tightly around Castiel's pale throat. Cas's fingers clawed at the rough fabric weakly._

_Cas wasn't sure how long Michael left him out there. He huddled in the corner of the small, drafty structure, shivering hard._

_"Cas, baby, it's alright."_

_Castiel felt a soft hand on his upper arm and moved closer to the source of the soft voice. He rubbed his eyes on his arm roughly and strained his eyes to make out a woman kneeling next to him, softly stroking his hair. She smiled gently at him and tucked his dark hair behind his ear. "I'm sorry, honey. You don't deserve this. I love you."_

_Cas hunched over further, pressing his face into his arms. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and tried to turn away from her. "No, no, you're not real..."_

_"Of course I am, sweetheart," his mother lightly traced Cas's cheek with her fingers, trying to coax him into looking at her. "I'm right here. I won't let him hurt you again."_

_"No, no, no, no, no..." Cas moaned softly, trying to push himself further into the corner the small doghouse, desperate to get away from the wispy, feather-light touches of his mother's fingers. "Please, please, just go away..."_

_"I know you're scared, baby boy," she whispered, rubbing his hair soothingly with her slim fingers. "I know it's hard. You're different. Michael is afraid for you. He just doesn't want the family to fall apart."_

_Cas shook his head and refused to look up, shrinking away from her, will her to leave, but simultaneously craving the comfort his mom offered. "Mommy..."_

_"Stay strong, honey," she kissed his forehead, brushing his tangled hair back. "I love you."_

_After a few minutes, Cas worked up the courage to look up and found that she had disappeared. He let out a long breath that caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, attempting to dissolve the lump in his throat._

_He flinched when he heard footsteps approaching, afraid she was coming back, and relaxed marginally when Balthazar poked his head inside. Balthazar gave Cas a quick once over, concern shining in his eyes. "I snuck you out some food."_

_Cas took the thick slice of bread gratefully and broke off a portion of it for now. The rest he would save. No telling how long he'd be out there._

_"You're practically blue," Balthazar slid into the doghouse and rubbed Cas's arms roughly, trying to work some heat back into the frozen skin. "I'm sorry."_

_Cas shook his head, his teeth chattering too hard for him to respond._

_"Balthazar!" Michael bellowed from the front porch. "If you're out with Cas, you'll be spending the night in the basement!"_

_Balthazar let go of Cas and backed out of the doghouse. He looked torn. "I'm so sorry, Cas."_

_Cas heard him walk towards the house, telling Michael not to get his panites in a twist, that he just went outside to get something from his car._

_Cas must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing he knew, someone was pulling him bodily out of the doghouse and fumbling with the collar. None of his brothers cursed like that, so when Cas managed to force his eyes open, he was unsurprised to see Dean._

_"Good, Cas, that's good, keep your eyes open," Dean commanded softly, freeing Cas from the collar and wrapping him in his leather jacket. Cas's skin was ice cold, and his pulse was sluggish. Dean lifted Cas easily in his arms and started towards the his truck. Cas wasn't even shivering anymore._

_"God, Cas, he did this to you?" Dean muttered. Cas blinked slowly at him and tried to speak, but his lips wouldn't form the words he wanted._

_"You'll be alright," Dean promised him fiercely. "Don't talk, just focus on staying awake."_

_Sam got out of the car when he saw Dean carrying Cas to the car. "What's wrong with him?"_

_"He's been outside," Dean said through gritted teeth. "Sit in the back with him, Sam. He needs to get warm."_

_"He needs a hospital," Sam argued, pulling the back door open. He pulled the back seat down from where it was folded against the back of the cab. Dean laid Cas down on the stained, worn fabric. Cas immediately curled up into a small ball, trying to conserve what little body heat he had left. Sam climbed into the small space after him and didn't hesitate in wrapping himself around Cas's shuddering body. Cas snuggled instinctively into Sam's warm body, pushing insistently against Sam. Sam wrapped his arms around Cas and held him tightly, rubbing his arms soothingly. Cas's back was torn up, bleeding and scabbed and caked with dirt._

_Dean turned the car on and cranked the heat up as high as it would go. "They don't believe in hospitals. You know that."_

_"Well, we do!" Sam snapped, alarmed by how cold Cas was. His icy toes forced their way between Sam's calves. "He's freezing , Dean, and look at his back."_

_"We'll take him home and figure it out," Dean promised, glancing back at his best friend wrapped in his brother's arms, trying to glean some heat from Sam's body. "He'll be alright."_

* * *

"Sonofabitch," Dean cursed under his breath, looking away from Cas and rubbing his forehead. "Cas..."

Cas shook his head and held up a hand, silently commanding Dean to stop. Cas's eyes were squeezed shut tightly and he was completely focused on keeping his breathing steady so he didn't launch into a panic attack. That would be all he needed right then.

After a few moments, Cas opened his eyes and turned to face Dean, meeting his gaze steadily. "It is not your fault. It is not my fault. Let's not dwell on it."

Dean raised an eyebrow and shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Okay."

"Okay?" Cas crossed his arms and quirked a dark brow at Dean so he was mirroring the other man's expression. "Just okay? You're going to let it drop?"

"I'm not Sam," Dean pointed out, rolling his eyes. "I'm not going to make you...talk about it, or whatever. I just thought I'd give you the option."

Cas's lips edged into a small smile, something he thought he'd forgotten how to do. He grinned softly at Dean, suddenly incredibly grateful for a best friend that was as emotionally awkward as he was. Dean shifted uncomfortably under Cas's smile.

He cleared his throat. "Cas, cut it out. Don't give your family any more ammunition about how we're deeply in love."

"The mere thought of that sickens me," Cas deadpanned, starting back towards the house.

He heard Dean's rushed footsteps as the man hurried to catch up with him. "Hey! You'd be lucky to have me, Castiel Novak! You'd have to beat off all the other men to keep them away from me!"

* * *

**So there it is! I hope you guys liked it. **

**Let me know what you think! The last chapter didn't get much of a response, so it'd be good to get some feedback. I really appreciate it if you have a second. Thanks!**

**Thanks for reading!**


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